


Rodney's Story

by puddleofgoo



Series: The Journey Home [2]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-20
Updated: 2010-09-20
Packaged: 2017-10-12 01:36:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 196,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/119346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/puddleofgoo/pseuds/puddleofgoo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When John is forced to leave Atlantis, Rodney makes the toughest decision in his life: to leave Atlantis and the work he could only dream of five years ago. Instead, he throws himself into John's life, making sure his devastated friend has something to life for, to strive for. Somewhere along the way, though, Rodney discovers his own life and family may not be as far off as he originally thought.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> [Art](http://archiveofourown.org/works/119104) by [Bluespirit](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Bluespirit/pseuds/Bluespirit)
> 
> This is a companion story to The Journey Home: John's Story. It is the same events and time period, as seen through Rodney's eyes, in his journey from the SGC to finding where he really belongs.

Doctor Rodney McKay wrapped his hands around his extra-large coffee cup, taking a gulp of the barely above room temperature liquid inside. He'd been up with the sun this morning—reluctantly since he'd only managed to fall into bed sometime after Atlantis' midnight. Simpson, Miko, and Zelenka were floating around the lab coordinating various projects as they tried to get all the systems back up and running.

Everything was still a mess from when the Replicators had taken over the city and while they'd gotten a lot done over the past week or so, there was still a lot more to do. Sometimes it seemed like too much.

He sighed into his mug. He was still exhausted after saving the city and the nightmares of dying at the hands of the Replicators didn't help to ease his mind.

And then there was the SGC. They were dicking around with their decisions to let them stay in Atlantis or face disciplinary action. Honestly, Rodney wasn't sure how much they could do to him since he wasn't a US citizen, but the not knowing worried him. More than he wanted to admit.

When he heard the alarm for the incoming wormhole, he immediately logged into the main console, checking the address. It was the right time for the dial-in from Earth, but there were a few teams out as well.

It took a few moments for the address to pop up—Earth—and he grunted quietly, putting down his mug as he quickly typed in the script that would copy all the files in the data burst to his workstation. He'd go through all the mail later this afternoon. It was illegal, but honestly, he didn't care and it kept him in the loop. He didn't like not knowing.

He pushed the window into the background and kept going on the project he was working on—trying to get all the excess power turned off.

It was several hours later by the time he remembered the files. Zelenka had ensconced himself at the table next to Rodney and was muttering curses in Czech under his breath. Mostly about the Replicators, but Rodney caught a few directed at various staff members as well.

"What are you bellyaching about?"

Radek looked up and blinked. "You have not yet read emails?"

"I'm working, so no. What now? Is someone complaining their shower water is cold?"

"Ahh. Perhaps you should read for yourself. It just came from Elizabeth. And since I know you, there is probably a record of the correspondence that required the email in the first place."

"Doesn't she have something better to do than send out endless emails to the staff?" he huffed, rolling his eyes as he pulled up his email program. He ignored the little blue number next to his inbox that indicated he had 739 unread emails and quickly did a search for Elizabeth's name. Fifty-two popped up—just in the last two days.

He glanced through them until he came to the last one that had been sent. The subject line was "Attention: Please Note a Change in Military Command Personnel."

"A change in military command personnel? Did they finally give Sheppard some more help?"

Radek's lips were pressed into a thin line. "I believe you should read. It is better to get it directly from the source."

"You know I hate when you do that…secretive thing. We both know you can't keep a secret to save your life, which is why we have to keep moving the still you set up," he said with a sigh, even as he brought up the email.

"Yes, but this time, it is not an attempt to keep a secret. You will not be...happy. And I do not wish to be the bearer of that news. I would prefer to allow the email to inform you."

Rodney sighed again, rolling his eyes as the email popped onto the screen.

***

From: Elizabeth Weir [mailto:Elizabeth.Weir@sgc.gov]  
Sent: Friday, April 13, 2007 01:07 AM   
To: All_Staff

Subject: Attention: Please Note a Change in Military Command Personnel.

All-  
I wanted to inform you of some changes taking place within the senior staff of Atlantis. Effective immediately, Major Evan Lorne will be taking the place of Colonel Sheppard as head of the military contingent here on Atlantis. Colonel Sheppard has been recalled back to Earth.  
We will require everyone's cooperation during this time to make this transition an easy one.  
If you have any questions, please don't hesitate to contact me or Major Lorne directly.

\- Dr. Elizabeth Weir

***

Rodney blinked at the screen, re-reading the email three times. "This is a belated April fool's joke. Right?"

Radek sighed. "I do not believe so. I heard...rumors that the SGC was unhappy with him, before we came back through the gate. Mostly, it seemed to be long-standing grudges, but...."

"It has to be a joke," Rodney said, pointing to the screen. "It has to be. We just saved O'Neill's ass. Woolsey's, too. If it wasn't for Sheppard's stunt they'd be dead."

"Did you return to your habit of recording all incoming transmissions? Perhaps the actual orders will have more details. You now know as much as I do, unfortunately. I am listening, and will let you know if I hear anything further, however."

Rodney turned, glaring at him. "I do not."

Radek shrugged. "Then we will both have to wait and see."

Rodney shifted in his seat, knowing full well that he had the entire data burst transmission sitting there. "You know Elizabeth told me I'm not supposed to do that anymore."

Radek rolled his eyes. "Only reason I have not set up a script to record was because I knew you had one."

"How do you know I didn't delete the script?"

"Because you delete nothing you find useful. You simply make it harder to catch you doing it."

Rodney scowled, but opened up the command line, typing in a series of letters and numbers that would bring him to the hidden directory where the script dumped all the files from the data burst. It took him a while to find what he was looking for, but buried in among a hundred other files he found it. Sheppard's new orders.

They were simple, and to the point. Sheppard was ordered to report back to the SGC on Earth three days from now, where he would receive more information. Things like Lorne taking over command and other military bullshit was tossed in, but it was surprisingly void of any real details.

He scowled again, immediately pulling up a blank email document. "This is…how do they expect…someone has their head up their ass again. How do they even think this is a good idea?"

"I do not think they are doing what they feel is best for Atlantis. Rather, they are doing what they feel is best for the SGC and the American military."

"Oh, they have another thing coming if they think I'll just sit here and take it," he said, his fingers already starting to type as he poured his anger at the situation into words.

Radek sighed again. "We are not in their military, or even citizens of their country. What can we do? I do not wish to see Sheppard leave, but I fear there is nothing we can do to prevent it."

"I'm senior staff. I have a say in what happens here."

"Yes, but not who the military designates as its commanding officer."

"It doesn't matter," Rodney said, shaking his head. "If I'm not happy with the situation I can leave and they can't afford to let me walk away."

Radek blinked at him. "I know you are friends with the Colonel, but you would be willing to walk away for him? That is... more generous than most would be."

"It's not about friendship," he grumbled. Oh no. There was WAY more involved than just friendship, but there was no way he was even approaching that with a ten-thousand foot pole. "It's about my safety. Lorne is good, but he's not Sheppard."

"They will say then, you may stay safely in the city, and no longer go on missions off-world if you do not feel safe."

"I'm talking in the city. Lorne's ATA gene is nothing compared to Sheppard's."

"Ah, but there are more of them now. Quantity makes up for what we will lack in quality."

"It never does. You should know that from all of the circuits and wires you keep sending back because they're made in China."

Radek shrugged. "Whether I believe or not, it is moot. That is what the American military believe."

"Well, they're short-sighted," he said, scowling at the screen, his hands laying lightly on the keyboard. "They just…don't understand how valuable he is to the mission, to Atlantis."

"He is just one man. While I am fond of him as well, the city will survive without him."

"It's not just going to be one man. If he goes, I go, and I know for a fact that the only reason Ronon stays is because Sheppard's in charge. There will be nothing holding him here anymore. And then there's Teyla. She misses her people and it wouldn't surprise me if she goes back to them."

"Why would you go? His orders do not directly affect your work in any meaningful way."

"Do you have wax in your ears? I don't trust Lorne to keep me safe here and it would be in protest of this stupid order."

"That you do not trust Major Lorne is a lie, and we both know it. And to protest the orders I am not opposed to. However, to walk away, to leave everything here you have worked for? And for what? He is a friend and teammate, yes, but you would still retain his friendship. Of this I am sure."

"I don't trust Lorne," Rodney said with a scowl at the Czech. "Don't tell me who I do or do not trust."

Radek rolled his eyes and waved a hand. "Considering you have always trusted him until now..."

"Don't put words in my mouth. If I said I don't trust him, I don't trust him. That's it." Rodney made a noise in the back of this throat and then roughly shoved back his chair. "I'll be back later. Keep working on what you were working on and stop meddling in other people's affairs."

Radek snorted and shook his head, but didn't try to stop Rodney.

Rodney stormed out of the labs with a full head of steam. How could they even think…consider that this was a good idea? This was a bad idea, a stupid idea, and something that was going to completely ruin Atlantis. He'd be surprised they'd last six months, let alone a year if they were gone.

When he looked up again, he found himself steps away from Sheppard's quarters. Just the man he wanted to see.

Without pausing he waved his hand in front of the door and gave it a mental nudge to open for him. He spotted Sheppard inside. "I can't believe how idiotic they are! You just saved Atlantis for them—nearly single-handedly I might add—and this is how they repay you! You saved O'Neill's ass! And Woolsey's, too!"

Sheppard looked up. He looked pale. "I know. I... I don't even know what to tell you."

Rodney watched as Sheppard dropped down onto the bed again. "They should be pinning a medal on you, not tossing you out on your ass! And while I agree that Lorne deserves the promotion, I still don't think he has enough experience to do what you do. He's still wet behind the ears!"

Rodney wouldn't have thought it possible, but Sheppard actually went whiter as he looked up. "They've officially given the command to Lorne?"

"Oh…" Rodney said, stopping short. Did he not know? How was that possible? He took s few steps back. "Well, I might have…let the proverbial cat out of the bag on that one, but it was all going to come out anyway…"

What he wasn't expecting was for Sheppard to go green and make a sudden dash for his bathroom. Okay, that was... disgusting.

Rodney hovered for a few seconds, trying not to look—or listen—because you know he had that whole sympathy vomiting gene or something. Moving away he paced in Sheppard's quarters for a few minutes before venturing back to the bathroom. He paused at the door. "Ah…Sheppard…Should that be…do you need…I can call Carson or someone…medical. You know, to…ah…help you with that."

To his surprise, Sheppard flopped backward, laying out on the floor. Okay, that was... not going there, he firmly told himself. "Nothing they can do. I'll be fine. Maybe they're going to put me back on an Earth gate team."

Rodney swallowed thickly as he nodded, trying desperately to keep his eyes on John's face and not on the patch of skin that was— "Yes, maybe that's exactly what they're going to do."

When Sheppard closed his eyes, the look of defeat on his face... Not even the Wraith, or impossible odds, or near death had ever made him look so... hopeless. "Yeah."

Okay. So that wasn't as convincing as he needed to be. He straightened his shoulders and tried to get back into the righteous anger state of mind he'd had a few minutes ago. "Look. I'm already writing a reply to this bogus order of yours. After everything you've done, they have no right to do this to you. They have another thing coming if they think I'm just going to lie down and take this. They don't know what they started."

John's smile was as devastating as always, even as weak as it was. "Thanks, buddy. But odds are good the decision has already been made. Don't shoot yourself in the foot to save me. You guys all got your official sign-offs today in the burst."

Rodney waved his hand, dismissing Sheppard's attempt at trying to make him feel better. "I knew they couldn't tell us to pack it up and go home. They need my cooperation more than I need them. They're going to find that out really quickly, let me tell you."

Sheppard sat up slowly, still looking way too pale. "Rodney... I appreciate it, more than I can tell you. But... don't do anything rash, okay?"

Rodney rolled his eyes as he headed to the door. "Just…go back to slouching. It'll all be fixed soon enough." He paused a few feet away from the door. "So, dinner? I think Teyla said something about movie night afterward."

Sheppard immediately shook his head no, the hopeless look creeping back into his features. "Honestly, I don't think I'm up to it tonight. I have a few days before I have to report back to the SGC, so maybe tomorrow."

No. Rodney, thought, just…no. "You need to eat and Teyla will pout if you don't. I'll see you in a few hours," he said firmly in his best 'giving orders to stupid scientists' voice. He was out the door a few seconds later.

Lorne was coming down the hall, looking almost as pale as Sheppard had.

"What did you say to them?" Rodney demanded, waving a finger in the man's face.

Lorne blinked, then immediately shook his head. "Nothing, I swear. This was as big a surprise to me as anyone else. Sheppard deserves Atlantis more than I do."

"You had to have said something to someone when we were on Earth. What was it?"

"Nothing. I swear on everything holy, sir. I didn't want this, not at this cost. I was happy being Sheppard's second."

Rodney scowled, but backed off a few paces. "Then why? Sheppard's a hero. He doesn't deserve this."

Lorne sighed. "If I had to guess, probably politics. A lot of people higher up have made it pretty clear they don't like him, and they don't want him here. It might not matter that in the end he saved the city. The fact that he disobeyed Landry's direct order in the process... well, with his black mark already, for the same thing..."

"Then they're even more stupid than I thought they were."

"Probably." Lorne made a face. "I need to go talk to him. I need to see if there's anything I can do."

"Doubtful," Rodney said with a sigh. "I need to finish writing my complaint before dinner."

"Let me know if you think of anything I can do. I have to follow orders, but... this just isn't right."

"You can't do anything and that's the problem."

Lorne sighed again, and nodded. "I'll talk to you later, Sir."

"But it might not be for much longer."

"Not be what, Sir?"

"Talking to me. If the SGC and the IOA don't come to their senses, I won't be here a minute longer than Sheppard."

Both eyebrows went up. "You'd resign your position in protest?"

Rodney nodded. "I'm putting the finishing touches on my letter and I'll send it out before dinner."

"Well.... I, hope it works."

"No offense, Lorne, but you're no Sheppard."

That startled a small laugh out of the other man. "No arguments here. I don't want Sheppard's job. I wasn't kidding when I said I was happy being his second."

"Well, it looks like you've already gotten it." Rodney took a few steps away before pausing. "Go easy on him, okay?"

Lorne nodded. "Not taking it well, eh? I doubt I would either, if I were in his place."

"Yeah, well…" Rodney shrugged.

Lorne straightened and gave a sharp nod. "I'll do what I can."

Rodney nodded and waved Lorne on as he headed back to the labs. Zelenka was still nose deep in the repairs they were working on.

He didn't look up as Rodney entered, completely engrossed in what he was doing.

"How are the repairs going?"

Zelenka tried to lift his head too fast, banging it loudly against the machine he was trying to fix. The cursing was colorful and rather amusing.

"That well, eh? Simpson out with one of the teams?"

Zelenka glared at him. "Yes, she is leading one of the repair teams, and I have put Miko to lead the other."

"Good. Good choice," he said with a nod. "Keep…you know…doing…what you're…doing."

Radek rolled his eyes, and then went back to what he had been doing.

"I'll be in my office. I don't want to be bothered for the rest of the afternoon so I'm forwarding all my calls to you."

The look he got this time was positively sour. "You are punishing me for something, yes?"

"No. It's time you got used to your new workload."

"New workload?"

Rodney nodded. "I doubt the SGC is going to agree to my terms, so you'll be getting a promotion in three days. You might as well get used to it now. Call it a…trial by fire."

Radek's expression was... unreadable. "You truly intend to follow through on the threats?"

"What do you think?" Rodney asked, scowling at the Czech.

"I think that you... feel a strong loyalty toward the Colonel. However, I doubt even he would ask you to do anything this... extreme."

"He didn't ask. Tried to talk me out of it, but that's not going to happen. I've gotten used to the whole…thing we do. He saves my life, I save his. It's my turn and we both know that Sheppard can't take care of himself when this kind of political bullshit rears its head."

"He is not a child."

"And yet he has absolutely no sense of self preservation—unlike myself, of course."

"He is not a child." Radek's tone was a bit stronger. "He is a friend and team-leader, yes. But his path is not tied to yours without question."

"He's a basketcase," Rodney said gesturing to the door. "My short conversation with him only strengthened by original thought that he needs someone to make sure he doesn't screw up his life too badly."

"So you will leave Atlantis, everything you have ever worked for, to follow him around? What if he does not wish to have you clinging to him? What will you do then?"

"I'll figure it out."

"Why? Why go to such extremes?"

"Because it's the principle of the matter. They have no right to do this to him and if it means I babysit him until he's on his feet, then that's what I do."

"He is in the American military. He knew, when he joined them, that it was their right to tell him where he may go and what he may do."

"And?"

"You say they 'have no right.' But you are wrong. They do have this right."

"He's a hero in every sense of the word. They should let him do what he does best."

Radek shrugged. "That is not the way things work. We both know this. You have seen it happen many times before. Why is it so different now, that you feel you must sacrifice your own career? You even admit you do not think it will do any good, so you throw it away for nothing."

"Just…" Rodney sighed, shaking his head. "It's important."

"Why?"

"It is and I don't have to explain myself to you."

Another eye-roll was accompanied by a snort. "You do not even know yourself why you do this, do you?"

"Just…leave it alone. Get back to work. I'm sure you have something much more pressing to take care of than trying to get inside my head."

"Of course. Not nearly as fascinating, however."

"Wait until you're getting all of my calls," Rodney said, moving to his office.

Another snort, and then the clanking sounds that had been coming from Radek's direction when Rodney had arrived resumed.

Rodney stood there for a few minutes, letting the sounds of Atlantis wash over him. He'd miss this. He really would, but right now Sheppard needed his back, needed his help. It was just something he had to do.

He spent the rest of the afternoon composing his letter of protest and compiling various mission reports that supported his observations. He bunched everything—and some of the science reports Carter needed—and had Chuck transmit a quick burst to the SGC.

By the time he looked up, he realized what time it was. He remembered Sheppard's face, how completely hopeless the other man had looked. He knew Sheppard was too much of a martyr to come to the team thing on his own, so he would need convincing.

He tapped his radio. "McKay to Ronon."

"Yeah?"

"You heard what they're doing to Sheppard?"

"Yeah. Stupid."

"Well, we're supposed to do dinner and a movie tonight. He might need some convincing. Guilt him. Say that Teyla's going to be upset or something if he doesn't show up. He needs to eat."

There was a grunt. "Okay."

"Drag him there if you have to."

"You sure?"

"Yes. He only has a few more days here and I want to make sure he enjoys them."

"Okay. See ya." The line went dead.

Confident that Ronon would get the job done, he called Teyla next.

"I am here. What can I do for you, Rodney?"

"They're kicking Sheppard out of Atlantis and we have to make sure we give him all the support he needs before his three days are up."

Her sigh was soft. "Yes. To lose him again, so soon after getting you all back is painful."

"I know and we both know Sheppard. He's not taking this well, at all."

"I have not seen him yet, but I do not imagine this is easy for him. You have something in mind to ease his soul?"

"As much as I hate it, I think tonight's movie has to be 'Back to the Future'. He needs something…comforting."

She was quiet for a moment. "I believe you may be right."

"So just…can you make sure he has dinner, stuff he likes?"

"I will speak with the mess chefs, and bring a meal to our movie night. I know John will not want to eat in a crowd this evening."

"I agree. Ronon is already on his way to bully Sheppard to movie night so we need to move."

She made a soft sound of amusement. "I will hurry then, and will meet you there."

"I'll worry about the movie—as horrible and scientifically-implausible as it can be—and meet you in the media room."

There was another pause. "You are a good friend, Rodney."

"Yeah, yeah," he said, quietly, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. He could feel the blood flushing his cheeks. "Just…we have to do this for him."

"I will see you shortly." She let him off gracefully.

Rodney headed out of the lab, ignoring Radek's comment about working a half-day. He stopped at his quarters first, picking up a few snacks he had hidden away. He also grabbed the copy of "Back to the Future" he'd…borrowed from the media room. For safekeeping.

He was the first one to arrive, although Teyla wasn't far behind, pushing in a cart full of all John's favorites.

"Oh good, you got food," he said, immediately moving to help put everything on the table.

She smiled like an indulgent parent, taking a seat in her favorite chair.

He handed her a plate after he got Ronon's and Sheppard's placed, the snacks on the low-coffee table. After putting the movie in the DVD player, he dropped down onto the couch with a groan. "This sucks."

Her expression turned sadder. "Yes. He is a good man, and protects his people well."

"He doesn't deserve this."

"No, he does not. But then, many bad things happen to very good people."

Rodney sighed, stabbing his mystery meat a little harder than he intended, splattering gravy on his shirt. "And the thing is…Sheppard has no sense of self-preservation when it comes to stuff like this. He just…takes it." He sighed again as he shifted on the couch, leaning forward to search for a napkin.

"Does he have a choice? It is my understanding that because he is a member of his military, they are in control of where he may serve them."

"They are but he doesn't even…contest it. He just…'yes, sirs' them to death. It's a mission of utmost importance and the likelihood of survival is less than five percent and he's right there agreeing to it like a lemming. He has brains! He could have been Mensa! He knows better!"

She took a moment, obviously gathering her thoughts. "This is the career path that he chose, however. And had he taken a different one, we might never have met him at all."

"I know, but…still." Rodney sighed, wiping at his shirt, spreading the mess around. "Let's just…act natural."

She smiled softly. "That is a good plan."

Rodney sat back again and started to pick at his food, trying to convince himself he was hungry. His stomach was sour with the knowledge of what was happening, about what he knew was probably going to happen. Thankfully Ronon pushed Sheppard into the room less than ten minutes later.

Sheppard looked even paler than he had this morning. But he gave them a weak smile. "Hi guys. Ronon insisted I come say hi."

"It's about time you got here," Rodney said gruffly, trying to hide how much it hurt to see Sheppard like this. He waved with his fork. "Your food's getting cold."

Shaking his head, Sheppard looked like he was ready to bolt. "I'm not really hungry, honestly. And like I told Ronon, I don't think I can sit through a movie tonight."

Teyla opened her mouth to say something—probably that it was okay for him to leave and hide, which was so not okay in Rodney's book. Rodney cut her off. "For god's sakes, Sheppard. You need to eat. You're already skin and bones. Sit down, eat, and watch the movie."

He could see the hesitation, as well as when Sheppard made the decision to stay. "All right. I guess I'll stay for a while."

"Of course you're going to stay," Rodney said, settling back into the cushions.

He watched as Sheppard got a plate of food and made his way to the couch. He pushed things around, but hadn't put a single bite in his mouth yet.

Rodney tried not to scowl in Sheppard's direction and savagely punched the play button on the DVD remote, the opening scenes of the movie starting on the screen.

Sheppard continued to push food around his plate, and he didn't seem to be paying much attention to the movie.

So Rodney started talking, babbling really, a running commentary about the scientific inaccuracies of the movie. That was what he normally did.

John half-heartedly bantered back, until he finally gave up on pushing the food around and handed his plate to Ronon.

Ronon, though, just handed it right back to him.

John pushed the plate back to Ronon, giving their teammate a distracted "You can have it Big Guy. I'm not hungry," before turning back to Rodney, picking up the conversation they'd been having. "Maybe someday you can write a paper on how all the science really would have worked."

"It's yours," Ronon said, shoving it back.

John looked back over, another of those smiles on his face that said he was trying not to depress everyone, but was having a hard time with it. "I'm really not hungry."

Rodney opened his mouth to say something, but Ronon beat him to it. "McKay says you need to eat more."

"He's probably right. But I don't have much of an appetite at the moment."

Rodney tried not to scowl, really tried, but from the wounded way Sheppard was looking at him it didn't look like he was that successful. He might as well say it. It was the big, huge elephant in the room anyway. "They're making a mistake."

With a sigh, Sheppard closed his eyes for a brief moment. "Whether they are or not, I don't really have a choice. I was given orders. You guys will be fine though. Lorne is taking over as military leader, and he's a good guy."

"He's not you," Rodney said firmly.

"You guys will be fine, and so will Atlantis." Sheppard looked around, and he attempted another smile. "You'll get a new teammate, and continue to do your jobs. With luck, they'll let me pass emails back and forth to you, so you can keep me posted on how you're doing."

"Much has changed here, John," Teyla said quietly, pulling Sheppard's attention away from Rodney and toward the Athosian. "I find myself wishing to spend more time with my people now. Your departure has only emphasized my need for family and friends."

With a nod, Sheppard sighed again. "It's been a rough month, with us getting kicked out, only to come back and save the city, and now I'm getting kicked out again. I don't think anyone would blame you for wanting to spend more time with your people."

"I plan to inform Elizabeth in the morning," Teyla said. "I shall miss Atlantis and my friends, but it is time to move on." Rodney wasn't really surprised by Teyla's admission, but it still…hurt in a way. They were a team, family. Sheppard really was what drew them all together.

Leaning forward, Sheppard took her hand. "If the SGC does let me pass emails, I'll ask Elizabeth to pass on communications to you. Hopefully, we won't lose touch."

"That would be nice," she said with a smile tinged with sadness. Rodney was a bit surprised when Ronon picked up the conversation a few beats later.

"I'll be going with her when she leaves. There are still Runners out there. We can help them."

Sheppard didn't look surprised. "I know Atlantis will miss you both. But if there's anything I can do to help, while I'm still here, just let me know."

"We have time with which to spend together. That is all I require," Teyla said squeezing John's hand.

"We'll all be fine. It's not the end of the world, we're just...moving on I guess." Some of the hollow look was returning to Sheppard's eyes.

"It seems your departure has spurred much change," Teyla said with a small, tired smile.

"I'm just one man. You guys will all be fine. We survived the entire expedition leaving before. This time, it's just me."

No. He didn't understand. Rodney shook his head. "This is different."

Sheppard turned back to look at him. "It is different, but you'll be fine, McKay. You'll be here, doing research, finding out what makes the universe tick. I want postcards from time to time though."

Rodney shook his head again, leaning forward on the couch, the movie forgotten. "Maybe. I already sent my complaints back to the IOA. Opened up a wormhole and shot it through in a high-speed burst. We'll see how they respond in the morning."

He watched as Sheppard's eyes got wide. "McKay... I appreciate the thought and effort, but don't put your position in danger, too."

"They're putting us all in danger because they have their heads up their collective asses. And what's done is done. Depending on how they respond, you might be helping me pack tomorrow." Rodney had to make Sheppard see that he mattered, that he made a difference.

Shaking his head, Sheppard leaned forward to put his hand on Rodney's knee, giving it a squeeze. "They might get irritated with you, but while I'm replaceable, you're really not."

"It's my choice, Sheppard. And it's on my terms, not theirs."

Sheppard squeezed again. "Just... don't do anything rash, okay? You belong here."

Rodney smile was a little brittle, a lot worried. "I guess we'll see just how much I'm worth to them now won't we?"

He saw a bit of alarm leaking into Sheppard's expression. "McKay... what did you send through?"

"An ultimatum," Rodney answered, offering a small shrug. "If they want you gone, then they're going to lose me, too. They've already lost Ronon and Teyla. So with one fell swoop they've decimated the flagship Atlantis team."

"You don't want to do that. Atlantis needs you. You still have time to take it back."

Rodney shook his head. "I don't want to take it back. I believe in what I said to them." He offered another small shrug. "They need me more than I need them." Actually, Sheppard needed him more, but he wasn't about ready to say that outside of his head. Not yet.

Several emotions, including gratitude, flickered across Sheppard's face before he hid it by looking at his lap. "You guys... thank you. For everything."

Rodney snorted. "Someone had to point out to them how stupid their decision was. I was the likeliest candidate."

"Still... thank you." Sheppard looked back up, a soft smile hovering on his lips.

Something twisted inside of him and Rodney quickly pushed it away, refusing to even acknowledge the feeling. "There's nothing to thank me for," he said gruffly, simply waving him off.

With a small shrug, the soft smile still in place, John didn't respond, just reached across to squeeze Rodney's knee again.

Swallowing thickly, Rodney sat back against the couch cushions, trying to focus on the movie once again and not on the lingering feeling of Sheppard's hand on his knee.

God. He was so screwed.

****

Rodney buried himself in his work over the next few days, careening between manic energy and desperation to try and keep Sheppard's spirits up. He had to pack and get everything together in case he was actually going to have to leave—which was looking more and more likely with every passing minute—which also worried him.

He was the smartest man in two galaxies. How could the SGC and IOA just ignore him?

Radek was watching him from across the room.

"Don't you have something better to do than stare at me? I know for a fact that you have hundreds of emails in your inbox."

"Why are you doing this?" It wasn't the first time he had asked the question. He just wouldn't let it go.

"My answer hasn't changed in the past two days, why do you think it will now?"

"Because you are not a stupid man. You have a reason you are doing this, you just do not want it to be known. This puzzles me."

"The IOA has to know that every decision they make has direct and immediate consequences."

"By sacrificing your entire professional life."

"If that's what it takes," Rodney said tightly, turning back toward his computer screen. "It's the principle of the matter."

"And this is where I have problem. You are not stupid, and yet, this excuse you give is idiocy."

"I didn't ask for your opinion," Rodney said, turning to scowl at the Czech. "Just because you can't fathom the reason behind my actions doesn't necessarily mean its idiocy."

"Ah, but if you give me no concrete reasons except the thinly veiled nonsense you spout when I ask, what other choice do I have except to believe you have lost your mind? Perhaps it is for the best then, if you are leaving. If you can no longer think straight, you are not safe here."

"I can still run laps around you intellectually and you know it. This is just a veiled attempt to try and convince me that I'm irreplaceable so you don't have to deal with Kavenaugh anymore."

"See, you have lost your mind. Perhaps I should send my own note of recommendation, that you be removed due to faulty intellect."

Rodney rolled his eyes. "As if they'd believe you."

"Given the course of action you are currently on? I believe they would, and would restrain you for help before releasing you. Perhaps you were exposed to something that has made you crazy."

"Anything I've been exposed to in the past two weeks, you have too, so they'd have to test you too. Don't start anything you can't—or won't—finish."

"I could say the same for you."

"I," he said haughtily, "know what I'm doing."

"What you are doing is career suicide for no discernible reason."

"I have my reasons. Just because you can't comprehend my reasons in all their grandeur isn't my fault."

"Because you have no reasons."

Rodney sighed, taking a few steps closer to Radek. "Are you hard of hearing? Do you need to get your earwax cleaning out? I have my reasons. I've explained them to you a dozen times."

"No. You have not. You have said you have reasons, and then have diverted the conversation without giving them."

"Look. Just because you don't like my reasons doesn't mean I don't have any. You should probably get to work because the emails are just going to keep piling up."

"You have not given me any reasons to like or dislike! That the IOA must be made to understand consequences is an excuse you use to convince others you have reasons. It is not, in and of itself, a reason."

"I didn't ask for your approval and you had better get used to actually doing a day's work because tomorrow I'm stepping through the gate and going back to Earth."

Radek snorted. "We shall see."

"I guess we shall."

The look the other scientist threw him was part frustration and part anger.

"Deal with it, Zelenka. You don't really have a choice…and oh look, twenty more emails in the past five minutes. You have a lot of work to do." Rodney had already switched over his email inbox to send a copy of every message he received directly to the Czech. It was easy enough to turn off if the word came through from the IOA that Sheppard was staying.

With another snort, Radek deliberately turned his back to go back to work.

"Meddling little bastard," Rodney muttered to himself as he turned back to his own computer. He was trying to compress as much of the Atlantis mainframe into a handful of flash drives. He would need the information on Earth to continue his research and he didn't think the SGC would be all that forthcoming with requests for access once he quit.

God. He was actually doing this. It was frightening and…freeing at the same time. It would be the first time since he was a teenager hat he'd be out of work…well…not counting the times between jobs after that whole…incident with his father.

Maybe that whole thing would have blown over by now and he'd actually be able to get some kind of research gig somewhere. Maybe. Scientists had long memories, which wasn't a good thing for him.

It was worth a shot, at least, before he tried anything else.

He sighed quietly, ignoring the influx of staff emails as he concentrated on what he needed to download from the mainframe. He had twelve hours to finish and pack and sleep. Maybe he'd get it all done.

Sheppard kept stopping by the labs, trying to convince him not to do it. He saw the other man lingering outside the door again out of the corner of his eye.

He ignored him, turning his back so he didn't have to see him standing there. He just…he couldn't' have that conversation with him again. He couldn't.

Rodney finished up in the small hours of the morning, managing to stumble back to his room and sleep for a few hours before pulling himself out of bed, finishing the last bit of packing he needed to do before he headed to the control room.

The IOA never answered him, which was an answer in and of itself.

He was out of a job and headed home.

His doorbell rang as he was in the middle of getting everything together.

Carson said he might stop by in the morning, so he opened the door without a second thought.

"You don't have to do this." Sheppard didn't even wait for the door to open completely. He looked like he was determined this time.

Rodney glanced up, scowling at the man standing in his quarters. "Do what?"

"This." Sheppard waved his hand around. "Don't give up Atlantis for this, McKay. You love it here. And the city needs you."

Rodney sighed and rolled his eyes. "It needs you more."

Shaking his head, Sheppard's expression was intense. "There are other grunts out there who can do what I do. But there's only one Rodney McKay."

Sheppard just…didn't understand. This was about Sheppard not him. He was doing something selfless for once in his life and all he was getting was grief. "No, Sheppard, they can't," he said, trying to firm up his tone as he continued. "And look. I made up my mind and you know it's impossible for me to change it once that happens."

With a soft sigh, Sheppard slumped a little and moved to sit on Rodney's bed, stretching out across it. "I just know they aren't going to change their minds about me. I hate that I'm going to be the reason you lose Atlantis again, not when we just got it back."

Rodney sighed, shaking his head and rolling his eyes. "Not everything revolves around you, Sheppard. I made the choice to go back. And honestly with Teyla and Ronon heading out in a few days there's nothing left."

Sheppard just watched him for a while, as he packed. It was a little unnerving to have those eyes watching him so closely. "At least promise me, no matter what ends up happening, you won't disappear on me, okay? If we both have to be stuck on Earth, we might as well keep each other sane, right?"

Rodney tried to school his expression into surprise and not the triumph he was feeling—even if it was only a one-sided thing, at least he'd have something…some part of Sheppard, even if it was only his friendship. But he'd take that.

"Wait a minute," Rodney said, pausing as he gestured to Sheppard with a sock." You're purposely making plans to stay in touch with me? You can barely stand being around me most days."

The soft smile that made Rodney's insides want to rearrange themselves came out. "Not true. You're my best friend. Sure, we argue, but that's half the fun, isn't it?"

Rodney snorted and rolled his eyes, holding back a smile. It was more than half the fun if Sheppard really wanted to know, but he wasn't going to go down that road. Oh no. There were "Road blocked" and a "bridge out" signs covering that road. "If you say so. And who knows where I'll end up. I have to see what happens once I get back. See what the SGC wants from me."

"I know... Just. Promise me, okay?" Sheppard's expression shifted again, a bit of the haunted look coming back, gone again before Rodney could remark on it. "I don't know what they're going to do to me, or want from me. I... Look, I suck at this, okay? I just... don't want to lose touch."

"I…of course," Rodney nodded, bobbing his head. "Whatever you want." Anything you want. Really. That part he kept to himself, though.

"Thanks." It was a softer, more vulnerable voice than Sheppard usually used. "I guess I should head to the Gate Room. We'll be dialing out in about a half hour or so."

"You should help me finish up. I need to cart all this stuff down there, too," Rodney said trying to shift the conversation to something less…touchy-feely. He gestured at the bags and boxes around the room. Maybe he could guilt Sheppard into carrying some of it. He was always good for the physical stuff.

Looking around, it seemed like Sheppard was noticing the room for the first time. "Sure. What do you want me to carry?"

Rodney gestured widely. "Something. Take your pick. They all have to go."

He looked around the room, this time with a more calculating look. Then he started moving things around, separating them into two distinct piles. When it was all neatly put together, he picked up the larger of the two piles and glanced at Rodney. "Ready?"

"I…yeah. Minute," Rodney said, turning quickly to hide his blush and finish packing the last few items of clothes, shoving them into the open duffel on the bed. Watching Sheppard work was…yeah. Not going down that road. He closed the duffel a few beats later a little roughly before he slung it over his shoulder. He looked around, making sure he had everything he needed, nodding to himself as he checked his mental check list.. "Yeah. I think I have everything."

They walked side-by-side to the Gate Room, dropping Rodney's stuff next to a lone duffel bag already waiting there.

That was all Sheppard was taking back? He had to have more than just the one duffel. Rodney shook his head, trying not to pay attention to the hordes of people loitering around the control room. It was as if they had never seen people step through the Stargate before.

Elizabeth was on the bridge, looking down. When Sheppard glanced up, his face had lost all emotion. Even his voice, when he spoke, was so well controlled it was almost dead-sounding. "I'm ready when you are."

"We have fifteen minutes yet," she said, her voice carrying. She shifted her gaze, encompassing him and Sheppard. "Why don't you both come join me in my office?"

Sheppard glanced over at Rodney, catching his eye before nodding to Elizabeth and heading up the stairs.

Rodney started following him immediately, obeying the silent order without a second thought. He sighed, annoyed at himself, but it didn't stop him from walking up the stairs or returning Sheppard's look evenly and impassively.

They were up the stairs and seated in Elizabeth's office a minute later, the doors closing behind them even before they were fully settled.

Sheppard sank into the far guest chair. Some of the impassive wall faded—Rodney could only imagine the effort it was taking Sheppard to remain calm out there in front of so many eyes. "I don't suppose you have good news that this was all a bad joke?"

"No, I'm sorry," she said shaking her head as she sat down in her desk chair. "The data burst this morning had the reminder about your transfer to the SGC." She paused and turned toward Rodney, offering a quiet and apologetic expression. "And they still haven't answered your emails."

Rodney shrugged, letting out a soft sigh. "I really wasn't expecting them to."

She was too much of a diplomat to sigh, but he could tell she wanted to. "You're going through with this then? Going through the Gate with John?"

"I'm not backing down. I know they expect me to, but I'm not. This is too important."

This time she did sigh. "I don't want to lose either of you. But to lose you both at the same time... isn't there anything I can do to make you reconsider?"

He looked at her, holding her eyes. "Refuse to let them do this to Sheppard."

"I've tried." She rubbed at the bridge of her nose, then looked up to meet his eyes. "I've been exchanging increasingly heated emails since General O'Neill first dropped this on us."

"And? Sheppard saved his ass."

"He knows, and while he hasn't come out and said it, he's against this course of action. He... implied that there's someone else who has been pushing the IOA to remove John for a while now, and who took this opportunity to drive the point. But O'Neill wouldn't give me a name."

Rodney rolled his eyes and snorted. It figured. It was all about who owed who something or promised something. "Politics. I hate it."

She made a face. "I don't blame you."

Sheppard, who had just been sitting quietly listening to them, suddenly made a soft noise. "There's no stopping this then. Not if it's who I think it is. In fact, I'll be lucky to get out with an Honorable Discharge if he has his way."

"Who, Sheppard?" Rodney asked, turning toward Sheppard. This was new and something he hadn't mentioned before.

"He was the Colonel who was in charge of the base where I was stationed in Afghanistan. You've both read my records, so you know how that went. I knew he got connected to the SGC program about a year or so ago, but honestly I didn't think much of it since I wasn't directly in contact with him." Rodney watched Sheppard swallow, saw panic beginning to set in again.

Rodney bulldozed on not wanting to see that kind of…vulnerability on Sheppard's face. "What does he care about what you're doing now? That's old news."

"He's a General now, I think, and when I was sent south instead of being discharged, he was furious. At the time, he cornered me before I shipped out and promised that wasn't the end of it, but I took it as a hollow threat, honestly. I didn't think there was anything else he could do to me." Sheppard took several deep breaths, his eyes closing for a moment.

No. Absolutely not. No one could hate someone like Sheppard like that. It was just impossible. Rodney shook his head. "It has to be something else."

"Dunno, but he's the only one I know of in the program with both the grudge and the clout to go up against O'Neill." Opening his eyes, Sheppard shrugged.

"But O'Neill doesn't hold the strings anymore. The IOA does. This is all political."

"Exactly. If he's gotten the ear of the IOA, I'm as good as gone."

Rodney sighed, rubbing his hand over his face. This was a mess. He shifted in his seat, looking over his shoulder into the control room. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Sheppard turn as well. He had to see what Rodney did. There were even more people there. Carson, Teyla, Ronon, Radek. And for Pete's sake, was that Miko and Simpson in the corner crying? They had to be weeping over the loss of Sheppard in the lab because they were certainly not crying over him. He sighed quietly.

"We should probably…" Rodney said, gesturing toward the crowd.

He sensed Sheppard going stiff and impassive again. "They'll be expecting me soon, yes."

Elizabeth nodded, rising to her feet. She moved gracefully across the floor, enveloping Sheppard in a hug. "Don't think you won't be missed, because you will be," she said quietly to him before moving a few steps to Rodney, hugging him as well.

"You know you're always welcome here. And I'll be doing everything in my power to get you BOTH back, sooner over later."

"I know, but we come as a package deal," Rodney said gruffly, straightening his clothes.

Her smile encompassed them both. From the corner of his eye, he saw Sheppard's startled glance at his declaration. "I'll keep that in mind. And I won't stop fighting for you."

"Fight for Sheppard. He needs the help. This was my decision to leave."

She reached out to squeeze his shoulder, then turned and pulled Sheppard in so she was hugging them both together. "I'll always fight for you both. Atlantis needs you. Both of you."

Rodney frowned, remaining silent. He knew Elizabeth meant well, but once they were out of sight… He followed Sheppard out of her office and down the stairs to where their bags were waiting.

This was it. They were leaving. No last minute save. No nothing.

Sheppard was practically a statue next to him, but Rodney could almost feel the waves of anxiety coming off the other man.

Their team approached slowly, drawing each of them into a hug—including Carson's manly crying on his shoulder. Rodney could still feel the wet spot as Elizabeth ordered the gate dialed, watched as Sheppard accepted the well wishes from everyone.

Rodney shifted on his feet when everyone finally moved away, bumping his shoulder with Sheppard's, offering a tight smile.  
Sheppard flashed him grateful look. Then he turned and saluted the city, everyone standing there. It was the crispest, most honest salute Rodney thought he had ever given in his life.

God, Rodney thought, his heart breaking a little as he watched his friend put on a brave face even though he knew it had to be ripping him apart. "Help me with my stuff," Rodney said, bending down to pick up his duffel, trying to distract Sheppard a little, give him a little space after that last moment.

Sheppard paused another moment, slowly looking around the room, meeting everyone's eye before he dropped the salute. Slowly, he picked up his one bag, and then the pile of Rodney's stuff he had carried in earlier.

Rodney hefted his bag onto his shoulder again, picking up the second one as well, grunting a little under all of the weight. If possible, it felt like everything had magically gained several extra pounds. He took a few steps forward, glancing over his shoulder when Sheppard wasn't moving.

"Come on. Let's get this over with already," Rodney said a little more sharply than he intended.

Sheppard nodded tightly, taking a step forward, and then hitting his stride, walking through the gate without looking back again.

Stepping through the wormhole and into the SGC should have been more exciting, but it was just like another mission, another planet. It looked the same as it had a month or so ago when they'd been here last. Sergeant Harriman was waiting for them at the bottom of the ramp, a clipboard in his hands.

He glanced up, and did a double take. "Oh. Doctor McKay. We weren't expecting you."

Rodney snorted, rolling his eyes as he walked down the ramp, the gate snapping closed behind them. "Of course you didn't. The right hand never knows what the left is doing."

Sheppard put Rodney's things down in a neat pile at the end of the ramp. "Where am I expected, Sergeant?"

"General Landry is waiting for you in his office," Harriman said, his fingers tightening on his clipboard as he looked down at the pile of stuff next to him.

"Thank you." Sheppard turned to him, the fear in his face only there if you knew where to look. "If I can, I'll meet up with you later, okay?"

"Of course," Rodney said nodding immediately. There was no way he was going let Sheppard spend his first night on Earth alone. They'd get food. Watch a movie. Something. "They have to figure out what they're doing with me now, so I'm not going anywhere."

Sheppard's smile was small, but Rodney could see the relief lurking there. "All right. I'll see you later then." With a deep breath, he picked up his duffel and headed out one of the side doors.

Rodney watched Sheppard go, defeat in his shoulders. Harriman cleared his throat. "Yes, what?" Rodney asked, turning to him.

"If you would come this way, sir, I'll put you in one of the conference rooms. Since we weren't expecting you, I'll need a few minutes to track down the appropriate people to speak with you."

"What do you mean you weren't expecting me? I sent an email days ago. Did they just ignore it?"

Harriman looked embarrassed. "I can't speak for them, sir, but I don't believe they actually thought we'd be seeing you today."

"Did they think I was joking? That I sent that because I had nothing better to do?" Rodney let the frustration and anger he'd been holding back leak into his voice. "That man is a hero," he said, pointing to the door where Sheppard had just vanished through. "Instead of pinning a medal on his chest, they're persecuting him, taking a valuable member of the Atlantis expedition away when they need him the most. Do you know what's happened since his orders came? Doctor Weir lost her primary contact team. We all protested, but did anyone listen to us? Oh no. They couldn't be bothered!"

Harriman nodded. "I don't disagree with you, sir. However, that decision is in other hands. If you'll follow me to the conference room, I'll get the right people in to see you. They're the ones who... made the ultimate decisions about the Colonel."

Rodney sighed. "Fine." He kept his duffel on his shoulder, but left everything else at the base of the ramp.

Harriman led him to one of the smaller conference rooms, gesturing for him to have a seat. "There's coffee in the back, sir. Feel free to help yourself. I'll do my best to round everyone up quickly for you."

"How about food? I haven't eaten yet this morning and I'm hypoglycemic. I'd hate to keel over because I didn't eat while I was waiting."

"I'll arrange to have some pastries brought in for you. No citrus because of allergies, correct?"

Rodney nodded. "Yes."

"I'll see to it, sir." Harriman walked off quickly, leaving Rodney on his own for the moment.

Rodney dropped his bag on the floor by the door as he wandered around the small windowless conference room. He tried not to think about how many tons of concrete there were above his head as he headed to the table in the back and the carafe of coffee. He poured himself a mug, adding sugar and the non-dairy creamer powdered crap they had next to it.

He sighed quietly. What a mess. It was not really surprising that they didn't think he'd go through with his threats. They tended to ignore him, placate him. This time, though, it was different.

About ten minutes later, a solider came in with a huge tray of assorted pastries. He set them down on the table and walked back out without saying a word.

"Hey!" Rodney said, taking a few steps toward the door as the solider headed out. "How much longer do I have to wait here?"

The guy was gone though.

Rodney grabbed what looked like a cherry-cheese Danish thing, demolishing it in three bites and washing it down with his coffee. He paced for a few minutes more, his mind already coming up with scenario after scenario as to what they wanted, what they would do.

He poked his head out of the room, catching sight of a guard at the door. They'd put a guard on him! "Hey. What's going on?"

The guy looked over. "Several individuals are in route now, sir. They'll be here shortly."

"When?"

"Shortly."

"Which is when? I assume you can tell time or have you been hit on the head once too often?"

"Shortly."

"For cryin…" Rodney paused, taking a breath. "I was thinking of going down to the labs."

"You need to wait here, sir."

"Why?"

"Orders."

"I'm a civilian. I don't have orders," he said, stepping out into the hall. He was curious to see how serious they were about keeping him here.

The soldier stepped into his path. "I'm sorry, sir, but I have to ask you to remain in the room."

"Why?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest and tilting his chin up defiantly.

Orders, sir. I was told to make sure you were here when your guests arrive."

"And does make sure mean you lock me in the conference room if I don't want to stay voluntarily?"

I'm afraid so, sir. Your guests will be here shortly."

Rodney scowled at the Marine, eyeing the patch on his chest. "Well, Captain Mendez, I don't answer to you. I'm the smartest man in two galaxies and a civilian and if I want to go to the science labs, I will."

The man shrugged. "That's up to you, sir. I'd be forced to use as much force as possible to keep you here, however."

He paused for a few moments, looking at the Marine. He seemed serious and, honestly, Rodney wasn't sure if he wanted to push everything right now. "Can I at least go to the men's room?"

"There's one in the conference room, sir, the second door on the left."

"There is?" He ducked his head into the room, spotting two doors. "What's the other door for?"

"Storage closet. I believe office supplies are currently being kept in that room, sir."

"Oh." Rodney glanced at the Marine again before uttering a quiet sigh as he moved back into the room, trying to ignore the sound of the lock turning. Great. Just…great.

He took care of business and then started to gorge himself on more coffee and pastries. By the time the door opened again, he was twitching a little, the worst-case scenarios running through his head full tilt.

An older man he didn't recognize walked in. He had on dress blues, but it was obvious he wasn't from the mountain. Maybe Washington. "Doctor McKay. I'm Major Osterman. I'm the liaison officer between the SGC and the Pentagon. We didn't expect you to actually come through with Sheppard today."

"I don't bluff, Major. You should know that by now," he said, rolling his eyes.

Osterman chuckled lightly as he took a seat. "I tried to tell them that, but no one believed me."

"So, where's the paperwork I need to sign?"

"Well, why don't we chat for a bit first, before we do anything else? I know you were a member of Sheppard's team, but admittedly, even I can't figure out why you're taking this... extreme of a route. I'd be curious to hear your reasoning."

"I spelled it all out in the document I sent," Rodney said, scowling as he crossed his arms over his chest. "There's nothing more to say. It's very simple. I. Quit."

"Well, why don't we go over it again. You mentioned that you disagree with moving Sheppard, but you really didn't go into much detail as to why."

"I said that you're jeopardizing the mission by removing Sheppard from his post."

"Exactly. We'd like some details as to exactly why you believe no one except Colonel Sheppard can do this job."

"I detailed them. In bullet points."

"Humor me."

"Have you lost the ability to read?"

"No, I've read it. More than once. However, I'd like to hear it directly, in more detail."

"And I have no intention of repeating myself."

Osterman made a face. "I'm just trying to understand your position here, McKay. Major Lorne is a very competent individual, and he'll do a fine job running Atlantis."

"He doesn't have the experience he needs to run a base, let alone one in a war zone."

"We disagree with that. He's been in command of his own team for a while now, and has been Sheppard's second for almost as long. He's got more experience and knowledge than Sheppard himself did when he took over command."

"No, he doesn't."

"He's a good soldier and a good commander. I don't disagree with you that Sheppard was good at it as well, but he... made some mistakes that couldn't be overlooked."

"Look. You've obviously made up your mind. I've made up mine. I quit. Give me the paperwork I need to sign to get this dog-and-pony show over."

"Well... there's a problem with that."

"Why?" Rodney scowled across the table. "I'm an at will employee. I can quit if I want to."

"Technically, you're not. You're under a contract with the US Government that states that while we can terminate your employment with us at any time, you, ah, can't."

"Well, I quit."

"You, technically, can't quit." Osterman looked a little sheepish.

"Well, figure it out, because I quit. I'm not working for you any longer."

"Unfortunately, it's not that simple."

"I don't know what you tell you," Rodney said, his tone haughty. "I don't care what you have to do, or what hoops you have to jump through, because I quit. It's very simple."

"Well, the problem is that quite a few people are... reluctant to let you out of your contract. They consider you too valuable to simply let walk away."

Rodney leaned forward, narrowing his eyes at the men sitting across from him. "I. Don't. Care."

Osterman met his gaze with an apologetic shrug. "I understand that. Unfortunately, it leaves us at a standstill. The IOA has refused to sign a termination agreement for you."

"Let me explain something to you since you are far too stupid to understand it. I'm leaving today. I will be walking out of this facility today because I quit. You can't force me to work for you and if you did try to force me, I should remind you that I've blown up solar systems before. You don't want to make me angry."

Osterman sighed. "Unfortunately, until we get this sorted out, I'm afraid you can't leave this facility."

"I didn't switch to French, did I? I am speaking English, correct?"

"Look, I'm not any more happy about all of this than you are, believe it or not. But I've got my orders. Right now, I can't authorize you to leave the base, and I've been told there is, to paraphrase, no way in hell you'll be let out of your contract."

"I don't care about your orders. You can't keep me here against my will. I'm a Canadian citizen and I will send a complaint through my government if this goes on much longer."

"Well, actually, your government has already been contacted. They've given us the okay to do whatever we feel is in the best interest of the program."

"I doubt that."

He shrugged. "That's up to you. But in the meantime, we're at a stalemate it seems. I can't let you leave, and you want to go."

"The only way I'm staying here is under duress, so you figure it out."

"I'm sorry it has to come to that then. There are guards outside the door, and I'm afraid they will stop you if you try to leave."

Rodney snorted. "By force? Oh that will go over well with my government."

Osterman leaned forward. "I don't want it to come to that any more than you do. But getting defensive and combative with me isn't going to help your case any. Work with me here, McKay. I understand your position, and I'm not asking you to compromise that. I am asking that you stop making threats and demands and try talking to me."

"I'm done talking. I wanted to talk three days ago, but you couldn't be bothered to answer me. I. Quit."

Osterman shook his head. "You can't quit, I'm afraid."

"You can't force me to work."

"No, but we can prevent you from leaving. And right now, that's not something I'm authorized to change."

"Then you had better find someone who can authorize that change because I am leaving."

He sighed. "General Landry might—"

"Good," Rodney said, erupting out of his seat. "I'll go talk to him since you're an idiot. Have someone bring my bags." Rodney strode from the room, headed down the hall toward Landry's office and the main conference room.

Osterman himself grabbed Rodney's bags, trailing along behind him. "Doctor McKay! You aren't supposed to leave the conference room!"

Rodney didn't even pause. "What do you mean I can't leave? I quit! It's simple. Print out whatever papers I need to sign."

As he barged through the halls, he saw Sheppard coming out of Landry's office.

Rodney didn't stop, however, barging directly into Landry's office. "General! Your staff is worse than mine on Atlantis!"

Landry looked up, a wry look on his face. "Doctor McKay. I was expecting you."

"Well, I'm glad someone was. Where's the paperwork I need to sign so I can leave?"

"There is no paperwork, because as far as the SGC is concerned, you still work for us."

"Like I told Oscar Meyer over there," he said pointing toward the closed door. "I quit and you can't force me to work for you."

"You've had a very...turbulent last few months, Doctor. Anyone can understand if you're having difficulties coping with all of it. We have some excellent people lined up to help you through this."

"I'm fine. General. I'm just angry that no one is taking me seriously. I want to quit."

Landry's look was patronizing. "You say that now, but in a few days—or weeks—you'll realize it was just the stress of the situation getting to you."

Rodney scowled. "I'm leaving tonight, with or without your approval."

"I'm afraid not, Doctor McKay. For your own health and safety, you'll be required to stay here until further notice."

"You can't force me to stay here."

"You'll have several men assigned to protect you while you're here. Because you are currently having...difficulties coping, certain areas of the base will be off-limits, such as the laboratories."

"I'm not having any difficulties coping with anything!"

"We all experience something like this from time to time, Doctor, especially those of us in high-stress positions."

"So, what, I'm under house arrest?"

"Think of it more as witness protection. In this case, we're protecting you from yourself."

"I don't need protection and don't expect me to stay silent about this treatment either. I'm going to draft a letter to the Canadian government about the abuse I'm suffering at the hands of the Americans. I don't think they'll look too kindly on you then."

"I've already been in touch with my counterpart in the Canadian government, and he agrees that you just need some time to recover from all the stresses of the past few months. We'll have you back to normal in no time."

"There's nothing wrong with me."

"There's nothing to be ashamed of, Doctor McKay. You've been under tremendous pressure, so the temptation to just give up is a strong one. But you've got a lot of support here."

"There's. Nothing. Wrong. With. Me," he said through gritted teeth.

"Relax tonight, and get some sleep. Tomorrow we have you scheduled to sit in with a few people to help you work through this."

Rodney crossed his arms over his chest. "I refuse."

"I'm afraid that's not an option right now, Doctor McKay." Landry glanced up. "Ah, Major. Would you please show Doctor McKay to his quarters here?"

"I'm not going and you can't force me. The only place I'm going right now is into the main conference room to wait for you to print out the papers I have to sign so I can quit."

"I'm afraid that's not going to happen, Doctor McKay. If you refuse treatment voluntarily, I will be forced to authorize having you admitted to the high-security psyche ward."

"Go ahead and try," Rodney said, moving to the main conference room and pulling the door open. Sheppard was still sitting at the table looking lost.

He looked up at Rodney's entrance. "Hey."

Rodney moved over to the table, half expecting someone to grab him from behind and frog march him to the brig. "They're not letting me leave."

Sheppard's lips pressed together. "What do they want from you?"

"They think I'm having some kind of…mental break or something," Rodney said with a sigh as he dropped into the chair next to Sheppard.

Harriman walked in with a stack of paperwork that was silently set in front of Sheppard before the Sergeant left again. "So what's next for you then?"

"God only knows. I'm trapped here until they finally decide I made this decision of my own free will. I never thought it would be so hard to resign." He could hear Landry on the phone and was trying to listen to what he was saying but he was speaking too softly and too fast to make out the words.

Sheppard laughed softly, but instead of his usual bray that made Rodney want to laugh with him, this one was tinged with something almost... manic.

Rodney tiled his head to the side, his eyebrow rising. "Sheppard?"

Closing his eyes, Sheppard visibly tried to pull himself together. "I was told I can either resign quietly and I'll lose my pension, but it will be listed as an Honorable Discharge and none of this will go in my record. Or I could stay and try to fight, but it's pretty much already been decided if I did that, the best I could hope for was a Dishonorable Discharge. These are my resignation papers."

That was…ridiculous! "What? What kind of choice is that?"

"And it was made clear that if I didn't decide now, that option would disappear, and trial and dishonorable discharge would become my only option. So I took it." The hopeless look was back, and this time, it was deeper, more entrenched than before.

"They have their heads up their respective asses," Rodney said, rolling his eyes, trying to make things a little…lighter. They were sure screwing things up with the both of them. "I'm sure they'll get me sorted out by the end of the day. I have to see if my automatic rent payments were still going through. Otherwise I'm going to need to find a hotel or something."

"I... don't know where I'm going." Sheppard's voice was hollow. "I don't have anywhere to go."

Rodney stilled in his chair, looking at Sheppard in surprise. How could he… "What do you mean? I'm sure you have a bachelor pad somewhere."

He shook his head, gesturing toward the lonely duffel on the floor. "I lived on base. I.... this is all I have."

"Don't you have family?" He had to have family, parents, someone.

Sheppard shrugged. "I... haven't seen them in a long time, and didn't exactly leave on good terms. So that's not really an option I want to explore. Not yet."

Good, Rodney sighed silently. There was family. "So…you can get a hotel until you find an apartment. It's something."

"Yeah." Sheppard looked a little lost again. "Yeah, that's probably what I'll do. I don't think they'll let me stay here tonight."

"Why not? You should still have base privileges. You were honorably discharged, you know."

"It's a little different here. This is all classified, and I don't have clearance anymore. So..." He trailed off, absently signing all the papers in front of him.

Rodney felt his stomach drop. "Oh. That's….that sucks."

Sheppard had set down the pen, Harriman returning. He gathered up the generic releases Sheppard had already signed, and pushed a new stack in front of the other man. Sheppard picked the pen back up, but just stared at them. He looked way too pale.

Rodney tugged at Harriman's arm and pointed to the documents Sheppard had. "Can't you just print me out a copy with my name on them, too. You did it for him."

The Sergeant shook his head. "Sorry, sir. I can only produce these on order. I have to have this set for Colonel Sheppard on General Landry's desk in the next half-hour."

"So I order you to print me out a set. How about that?" It wasn't brain surgery or anything. It was pretty simple. Change the name. Hit print. Even Kavenaugh could do it.

"Sorry, sir. It has to come from the General." Harriman gave him an apologetic smile.

Across the table, Sheppard finished the last of the papers. Rodney watched as what little color the other man still had just... disappeared. Sheppard's head went down on the table.

Harriman looked worriedly at Sheppard, speaking quietly as he tried to get him to respond. Landry was all business, ordering Sheppard out of the mountain a few seconds before he ordered Rodney into his office. From the tone of his voice, Rodney knew he had to listen to him. He'd toed the line a bit too much since he'd been here, trying to push his way through.

He shoved back his chair and stomped across the floor. There were two soldiers in the room with the General. The once closest to him quickly shut the door behind him and stood guarding it. Crap.

"What did you want, General?"

"I've been asked to have you meet with one of the top psychologists we have access to, right now. She has to be on a plane first thing tomorrow morning, so your appointment with her has been rescheduled."

"I don't need to meet with a psychologist. There's nothing wrong with me. Everyone in this Mountain, though, needs their vision and hearing checked.

"Would you prefer to go directly to the secure lockdown facility until she returns in two weeks?"

Rodney scowled, glancing at the two bruisers guarding the doors. "No."

"Then you're going to go with Majors Jekins and Porrin, and meet with her now."

"And if I don't want to go with them are you going to arrest me and drag me down there?"

"No. You will be escorted to the aforementioned facility and kept under careful watch until you can be evaluated in two weeks."

"Oh and these goons are to make sure I get to my appointment?"

"They will show you the way, yes."

"I know the way," Rodney said dryly. "I did work here before."

"That wasn't a request, Doctor McKay." Landry glanced at the goons. "Please escort Doctor McKay to Doctor Usama's office."

One of them grabbed the upper part of his right arm, the meaty hand clamping down even as he shifted Rodney's weight so he was off balance. "Hey! I bruise easily."

"Gentlemen..." Landry's tone was mild. "No need to use force... unless Doctor McKay decides to put up a fight."

"I don't need help finding my way," Rodney protested, the goon shifting him forward, forcing him to walk a few steps.

"Just making sure you don't get lost, Doctor." Landry's bland smile was the last thing he saw before they were in the hall.

The goon didn't let up at all as the other one led the way, clearing the halls enough to make sure Rodney and his "guard" could get through. "Come on, guys. This isn't necessary."

"Following orders, sir."

"And General Landry said there was no need to use force. This is force!" He was still off-balance, the goon's hand wrapped around his arm. The first guard slid his key through the card reader at the elevator and the door slid open.

"Just making sure there are no problems, sir."

"Do you actually think," he said as he was propelled into the elevator, "that I'd give you a problem?"

"We'll be there in a few minutes, sir."

"No shit, Sherlock," Rodney muttered, hating the manhandling, but unable to pry his arm free.

It didn't take them long to propel him into an office where a meticulously dressed Asian woman was sitting behind a desk. She looked up, and smiled. "Ah, Doctor McKay, I was expecting you. Have a seat."

The goon finally let go, closing the door behind him. Rodney was sure his guards wouldn't leave until he did. He rubbed at his arm, scowling at the shrink. "This isn't going to take long, so I'd rather stand."

She continued to smile. "If you prefer to stand, that's fine. Now, why don't you tell me about how the last few weeks have been for you?"

"Fine."

She continued to look at him, her posture indicating she was waiting for him to say more.

He stared back, waiting.

She finally sat back in her chair. "I'm sure you're aware, Doctor McKay, that the SGC has asked me to evaluate your current mental health. They will make any decisions going forward based on my recommendations."

"I'm fine. There's nothing wrong with me. I'm just trying to quit my job, but no one seems to be able to comprehend that seemingly normal activity."

"Well, you haven't really given anyone any concrete reasoning. The few things I have here are," she glanced down at some papers on her desk, "that you don't feel Major Lorne will do an adequate job, and just last year, you submitted an addendum to his file commenting on his stellar record."

"Do you need a concrete reason to quit a job? I don't want to work there anymore. Period. It's simple. Print out the termination documents, I'll sign them and get out of your hair."

"You've been working for the government since you were, 14 years old? And for the SGC almost since its inception. So why now, Doctor McKay? What's changed?"

"I've changed my mind. It's time to move on to a job where my life is not on the line every single minute of the day. This was just the final straw, if you want to put it that way." Rodney shifted on his feet, arms crossed over his chest.

She nodded. "Why don't you talk a little bit more about that?"

"I'd rather not."

"Does it make you uncomfortable to talk about what you've done the last few years?"

"No, I just don't want to talk about it. It's pretty simple."

"You do realize that, without giving me something to work with, I'll be forced to classify you as unable to express yourself. That means you'll be placed and kept under surveillance until I feel you're not a danger to yourself or anyone around you."

"For Pete's sake! I'm trying to quit my day job because I don't want to work for the company anymore and all anyone can think of is that I'm out of my mind. I quit. It's simple."

"It's not simple at all, Doctor McKay. Your position, the knowledge you carry with you, the amount of time you've worked on government projects, and the fact that we've got evaluations from as little as a week ago with you stating you are still willing and able to work for the program all tell me there's something more going on here. It's my job to find out what before any major decisions are made."

"I'll sign whatever confidentiality documents you want me to," Rodney said with a sigh. "This was just the last straw. Lorne's good, but I don't trust him with my life and I'm getting too old to spend every other day running for my life."

"So you're basing your decision entirely on Colonel Sheppard's status?"

"And that once his recall was announced, the other two members of my team have decided to pursue other agendas."

"Which is understandable, that you would no longer want to be on an off-world team, but that doesn't explain quitting the program altogether."

"Maybe I want to do something different."

"Why don't you tell me about what you want to do now, then?"

"I don't know. I figure I can figure that out once I actually get out of the Mountain," he said, stressing the last word. "I'm also thinking a vacation would be nice, too."

"So you decided, on the spur of the moment, to quit doing everything you've dedicated your life to, and you don't even have anything else you really want to be doing."

"No, I've been thinking about it for a long time."

"And yet, according to the statements you gave to my colleague not two weeks ago, that's not the case."

"Do you tell everyone everything you're thinking?" he asked, an edge to his voice. "No. Of course not. This seemed like a good time for me, nothing more."

She leaned forward. "I'm not your enemy, Doctor McKay."

"Right now, you are."

She shook her head. "I'm not. I'm here to help ensure you make the best decision. And not one based on temporary fears or concerns."

"Are we done?"

"You realize the consequences of your decision, Doctor McKay? If you resign your position here, you will lose access to most of the work you've done in your career. You'll be, essentially, starting from scratch."

"Yes," he said with a nod. "I understand. I remember the papers I signed when I joined."

She sighed. "You seem to be in your right mind, and while it goes against what I think is the correct decision for you, I also don't believe you can be convinced to change your mind." She made a few notes and handed it to him. "Give this to General Landry. I'll also send it to him via e-mail."

"Anything else?" he asked as he took the paper from her hands.

She shook her head. "I wish you luck, Doctor. The path you're heading down now is not going to be an easy one."

"It'll be fine," he said as he moved to the door, opening it. His two guards were, of course, waiting for him. "I'm done. I have to give this to the General and I'm outta here."

The one who had manhandled him earlier nodded. "We'll escort you there, sir."

"Escort, eh? Is that what you call it?"

"Yes, sir. This way please."

"You're not going to drag me this time?"

"Not unless you need me to, sir."

"No," he said with a scowl, heading to the elevator, his guards keeping up easily. One moved ahead as they got closer, calling the elevator for them. They were back on level 27 a few minutes later on their way to the General's office.

Landry glanced up as Rodney barged in. He didn't look happy. "How the hell did you convince her to give this recommendation?"

"She made the decision on her own. Now, where are the papers I need to sign?"

Landry glared at him, but shoved a stack at Rodney. "I'm not happy about this, McKay."

"Well, happy or not, it's my decision. Take it up with the IOA," he said, taking the pen out of the holder on the General's desk as he signed the top page with a flourish. He skimmed the pages quickly, signing in each place that was indicated.

Landry's face got darker as Rodney went through the stack. By the time he was done, the General's face was practically a black hole sucking itself in.

"I expect a copy of the documents when I finish cleaning out my locker. I left a few personal items here before we left for Atlantis a month ago."

"My men will escort you to the locker room, then up to the surface."

"And the rest of my luggage? I brought several boxes with me of personal belongings."

"They will be delivered to the surface and waiting for you when you arrive."

"I'll need transportation to my apartment."

Landry scowled. "Fine. I'll arrange to have a car drop you off."

"Good. That's all settled then. And make sure I have the copy of those documents before I leave," Rodney said with a half-smile.

Landry continued to scowl as Rodney left his office, goons in tow.

It didn't take long for Rodney to retrieve the rest of his personal items and his keys for the apartment. He shoved everything into a backpack he had in his locker, slinging it over his shoulder. "Okay, boys. I'm all set."

The goons were impassive, leading him back to the elevator and up to the surface.

He leaned over the entrance desk, signing himself out of the mountain for the last time. The guards at the desk were efficient, taking his ID cards when he was finished. When he straightened up, his stomach did a weird flip. He was finally free…done with the SGC. He'd quit and there was no turning back.

One of the standard unmarked cars was idling there waiting for him with a driver. His belongings had been, he was told already stowed in the trunk.

Minutes later, the gate of Cheyenne Mountain were behind him as the car pulled away, heading down the access road into Colorado Springs.

He tried not to think of what he was leaving behind, of the bridges that were still burning behind him. He'd given up everything on a…whim. He just hoped he'd be able to help Sheppard, to make sure he got back on his feet because for him it was ten times worse.

They pulled up in front of the apartment complex half an hour later, the driver getting out and unloading Rodney's luggage onto the sidewalk outside his unit.

The soldier hadn't said a word the entire drive, and was back in the car and pulling out as soon as everything was unloaded. Landry must really have been pissed when he gave his orders.

Rodney rolled his eyes as he watch the car speed away. He shook his head and walked up to his apartment door, pulling out his keys. He was a little surprised when his key didn't fit. He used it a month ago.

Stepping back, he looked around. He was in the right section. This was his apartment.

A few more tries and he was getting pissed. One of his neighbors, a nosy little old lady, stuck her head out of her own door. "You don't live here anymore. Go away."

"Of course I do. I paid the rent."

"The landlord came and cleared out the place three days ago."

"What!"

"So you don't live here anymore. You're trespassing."

"I have a key," he said, holding up his ring, "and a cancelled check to prove I paid. It's my apartment."

"Not my problem. You're trespassing and I'll call the police if you don't leave."

Great, just…great. He sighed. He was tired of fighting and just wanted to eat and sleep. "Can you call me a cab? I don't have a cell phone and obviously I don't have access to my apartment."

She glared at him, slamming her door shut. He thought the was the end of it, but a few minutes later, while he was still debating what to do, her door banged open again. "They'll be here in five minutes. Now go away." And the door was closed again before he could answer.

Rodney moved out to where his luggage was, sitting down on the cub next to it. His landlord had been eying his collections ever since he moved in years ago. It wouldn't surprise Rodney if his landlord had just sold it all and bought himself a nice house or car or something. He knew he should have just put everything into storage.

The cab arrived a few minutes later. Going against stereotype, it was a young kid, who barely looked like he was legal to drive. He immediately started talking as soon as he got out to help Rodney put all his stuff in the car. "Oh man! Dude! Why are you sitting on the curb with all your stuff?"

"Because my landlord evicted me," he said dryly. "I need to go to my storage unit and then to a hotel."

"Sure, dude. Wherever you wanna go. My Grandma told me you were the guy who lived down the hall, right? The one who's stuff old smelly cleared out a few days ago? Tough luck, dude. That really sucks."

"Your grandma was going to call the cops on me."

The kid laughed. "She always threatens that, but she never has. Crazy old grandma." He smiled fondly.

"Look. I need to get this stuff to my storage unit. Can you find your way to the U Store It center?"

"Sure, dude. I know where it is. Hop on in. So what happened to all the stuff smelly took? Did he put it in your storage unit for you?"

"No. I didn't know I was evicted until I got here. I just got shipped back and I come home to…this," he said waving his hand at the apartment complex. He was tired and frustrated.

"Duuuuuuuude." The kid slipped behind the wheel, giving him a sad look. Then his eyes widened. "Did you have a lot of shi...stuff that was worth anything?"

Rodney sighed. "I'd rather not talk about it."

"Because, seriously, smelly just bought a huge house and I was wondering where he got the cash for it. This thing is wicked nice, and there's no way he makes that kind of dough from rent."

Great, just great," Rodney thought as the car pulled away. "That would be from my stuff, yes."

"Shit, dude. That really sucks."

"Can we just…stop with the talking and concentrate on the driving?"

"No worries dude! I'm a totally safe driver. Never been in an accident."

Rodney didn't answer, spending the rest of the ride in silence as he stared out of the window. They arrived at the storage place without incident, the kid helping him unload his luggage, stacking it outside the unit Rodney had indicated.

He left a few minutes later, once Rodney gave him a wad of cash.

It took him about a half-hour to move all of his stuff into the unit, stacking it neatly away. He kept out a bag with some clothes. He still had to get a laptop—since the one he was using had been the SGCs—and some other essential stuff. But that was for another day. Right now he just wanted food and a bed and he prayed Sheppard was actually at the hotel he thought he should be at. If not, he was screwed.

He locked everything and then made his way to the entrance, using what little change he had to call another cab. After explaining where he was four times to the dispatcher, he was assured a cab would come. He ended up sitting on a rickety bench outside of the storage place, his bag next to him.

And he waited.

He tried not to think about what he'd done, about what he would do. He had some time, a nice vacation before he started worrying about it. He had some money in the bank, enough to see him through a few months if he needed it and if he spent it wisely.

By the time the cab showed up nearly an hour later, the sun was setting and he had eaten the one stale PowerBar in his bag.

"What took you so long?"

This cabbie was the exact opposite of the first. He shrugged, but didn't actually verbalize an answer.

"I need to go to the Hampton Inn near the turnoff for Cheyenne Mountain. Do you know where that is?"

"Sure." As soon as Rodney had the door closed behind him, the cab was in motion.

Rodney swore they took the most meandering route possible and no matter how many times he tried to tell the idiot driver he was going the wrong way, he was ignored, more or less just along for the ride. Great, just great.

He checked his wallet and realized at the rate he was going—and how high the fare was climbing—he was going to hand over the rest of his cash to the thief driving the car.

Finally, the hotel came into view. Thank god. Now he just had to find Sheppard.

If Sheppard was actually here. And right now, he better be because Rodney was running out of options and he was just too tired to deal with this shit alone anymore right now.

He threw his remaining cash at the cabbie and pulled his duffel out of the back of the cab, barely closing the door before he guy was off again. "Idiot!" he yelled at him as he watched the taillights fade away.

Hefting his bag onto his shoulder, he headed inside.

A young woman was at the front desk. She looked up from whatever she had been doing as he came inside.

She was…kinda hot. Rodney tried one of his more charming smiles. "Ah…hi. I'm meeting up with a friend. He's…ah…staying here."

She just looked at him. "Okay."

"His name is John Sheppard."

"You want me to look him up?"

"Yes, that would be what you're supposed to do seeing that you're sitting at the front desk."

Her gaze, which had been mildly uninterested, suddenly turned hostile. "I'll need proof that you know him."

"Why?"

"We can't just give out the room numbers of our guests. It's a privacy thing."

"I understand that. All you have to do is check the computer in front of you to see if he's there and then call him to say that he has a guest waiting for him. It's pretty simple."

Her eyes narrowed, and she looked up in the computer. Then her expression got confused. "I have a note on his account that he's not to be called."

"But he is here."

"Yes."

"Just give me the room number and I'll go up."

"I already told you, that's against policy."

"Well, he's expecting me and if he doesn't know I'm here and you can't call him, how do you expect me to contact him?"

She hesitated. It was obvious she didn't want to help him, but equally obvious she didn't really want to do any more work than she already had.

"Well? You're in customer service and I'm the customer. You're supposed to help me."

Her eyes narrowed. "Fine. But if he complains..."

"He's not going to complain."

"Room 228."

"Thank you," he said, flashing a smile as he leaned on the counter. "So…when do you get off?"

Her expression went blank. "I'm afraid that's not information I'm comfortable giving out, sir."

"You know, we can…get a drink or something."

Her eyes narrowed. "I have a boyfriend."

"Yeah, but how can he compare with me? I'm a genius and a top of the line astrophysicist. You can't get much better than that."

"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

"It's just a drink."

"I'm going to call the police now."

"Fine fine. Be that way," Rodney said, straightening. "I'm going to see Sheppard. Room 228."

She watched him go, her eyes wary.

Rodney trudged up the stairs to the second floor after waiting ten minutes at the non-working and broken elevator. Would a sign have killed them?

Shaking his head he stomped down the hall, finding the room and banging on the door. "Sheppard, open up."

McKay?" Sheppard's voice sounded tired behind the door. "Is that you?"

He rolled his eyes as he answered, his duffel sliding off his shoulder and to the floor. "Who else would be looking for you?"

"I have no idea." A moment later, the door opened. Sheppard looked too pale. "Hey."

"Can you believe that I was evicted?"

Standing aside, Sheppard blinked at him. "Evicted. From the SGC?"

"No," he said with a scowl and another roll of his eyes as he picked up his bag and shoved past Sheppard into the room. Two beds. Good. Very good. "My apartment. Someone screwed up the automatic payments and they evicted me. I think the landlord had it in for me anyway. He never liked me."

"Oh. That sucks." He closed the door and went to sit on the bed it was obvious he had been laying on before Rodney arrived. "What happened to all your stuff?"

Rodney threw his bag on the other bed, looking around the room before finally dropping into the desk chair. "I had the cabbie go to the local storage place. I have some of my stuff in there, so I just added whatever I'd brought with me. It took me nearly an hour to flag down a new cab to bring me here."

Sheppard blinked again. "What about all the stuff in your apartment? What did they do with it?"

Rodney's stomach turned, the stale PowerBar threatening to return for a repeat performance. Wow. Sore subject. He scowled at Sheppard. "Let's not talk about all of my collectables. I did find out that my old landlord bought himself a really nice house."

"Ouch." Sheppard shook his head, and looked genuinely upset about it. He also seemed to sense this was a good time to change the subject. "Did the SGC finally let you out of your contract?"

Rodney nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. "Reluctantly. I had to do a dance for the shrink."

With a sigh, Sheppard gave him a weak smile. "But at least it's done, and you're free now. So what's next for you then?"

That was the million-dollar question, wasn't it? "I need to get a cell phone. And update all of my credit cards and whatnot. We were just here, so it's not that horrible. Right now I just want to eat dinner and sleep for a week."

With a vague gesture toward where it looked like Sheppard had just dropped his bag when he arrived, the other man shrugged. "I think I remember someone stuffing some paperwork in there. My wallet and stuff are probably there. I imagine I'll have to renew everything too."

"Yeah. I don't even have cash on me and with no car…" Rodney sighed, everything crashing down on him at once. He was…exhausted. "This sucks."

"Majorly." Sheppard made a face, then took a deep breath, making a visible effort to pull himself together. "I have to figure out where I want to live. I know I don't want to stay here."

Rodney snorted. "Of course not. No one lives in a hotel. No matter how nice."

Sheppard gave a snort of his own. "That, too. I also have to figure out what to do with myself. I.... really have no idea. I have my Masters in Mathematics, and since resigning means my discharge was honorable, I might be able to get a job flying commercial jets. But I don't know."

"I need to get a new computer, too. My old one was in the apartment. I need to start job searching. The SGC paid me well, but I can't live on that forever."

Sheppard actually showed some real interest. "Working for a private lab? How much of your stuff is owned by the SGC, and how much can you fudge on a technicality? You could probably make a ton of money from patents if you can find a way to release them without incurring the wrath of the government."

Rodney snorted, rolling his eyes, his hands waving. "Everything was owned by the SGC, but if I can get into a company that was partnering with them…you kind of see where I'm going."

With a smile that was a shadow of the usual one that made Rodney's stomach do flips, Sheppard nodded. "Yeah. So are you going to go back to Canada? Or stay here in the States?"  
That was the question of the hour and honestly, he hadn't thought much about it. He offered a small shrug. "I'll go where the job is. I figure I can hang around here for a few days and then maybe give Jeannie a call. I might be able to wrangle an invitation."

Sheppard nodded. "Yeah, if you can, I know she'd be happy to have you visit." He sighed. "I don't think I want to make any decisions tonight. Want to make an attempt at dinner with me?"

Food would be good and very important. "You have cash? If not, we have to see if we can find some."

"No." Sheppard stopped, and looked sheepish. "Actually, I have no idea. My old wallet is probably in my bag. Let me see if there was anything in there."

"I spent whatever I had on cab fare. It was expensive to cab from the Mountain into town."

"They stuck me in a car and send me here. I don't think they were sure I would actually leave otherwise." Sheppard grabbed his back and brought it up onto the bed, where he started going through it.

"They booted me out and let me fend for myself. Do you know how far a walk it is to the main gate at Cheyenne? I had to walk with all of my crap." Okay. So maybe that was a tad bit of an exaggeration, but Sheppard wouldn't know the difference and honestly, if it guilted him into paying for dinner he was okay with it.

"Just another friendly policy from the folks at the SGC." Sheppard made a face. Then he pulled a wad of cash out of the wallet he had dug up. "Think we can both eat out on this?"

Money and yes, more than enough for dinner. He nodded. "That's plenty. If we spot my bank along the way, I'll see if my ATM card is still working. I used it two months ago, so it should be." He rose to his feet, his muscles protesting. He groaned and tried to stretch them out. "And why is everything expired? We were on Earth for six months."

Sheppard rose as well, and shrugged. "I didn't bother to renew anything then. I lived on base, and really, never left."

Rodney looked at the other man oddly. Sheppard had stayed on base the entire time? "Oh. I figured you actually got out and did stuff."

"Nope. I didn't really have anything I wanted to do, and anyone I would have done it with was either in another city or off-world at different times from me."

"Oh." Rodney said, thinking about Sheppard's comment. It was…sad, that he hadn't found any friends while he was stationed at the SGC. Rodney expected Sheppard, of all people, to be able to make friends easily. "So," he said after what seemed like a very long pause. "Dinner?"

Sheppard nodded. "Yeah. Know of anything in the area, or should we ask someone?"

Rodney shook his head. "I have no idea where we are. The only reason I could find you was because I browbeat Harriman at the SGC before I left and then the girl at the front desk."

Chuckling, Sheppard grinned at him. "Let's ask at the front then. They can probably call us a cab, too."

Oh, yeah. There was no way in hell he was talking to that…woman again. "Ah…you can ask."

Sheppard gave him a look that was more like the man Rodney usually knew, and headed out. In the lobby, the girl at the desk started to scowl as soon as she spotted them. Well, spotted Rodney. Sheppard either didn't notice or didn't care, smiling and stepping over to talk to her. "Hi. We'd like to get some dinner, but we don't know the area. I don't suppose you have a favorite place to eat you can recommend nearby?"

She glanced over Sheppard's shoulder at him, scowling. "With him?"

With a nod, John glanced over at Rodney and winked. "Yeah, I know he's a bit rough around the edges, but he's a good guy if you get to know him."

"Yeah, right." She narrowed her eyes at Rodney before turning back to Sheppard, smiling up at him. "What do you want to eat?"

Sheppard shrugged, and sighed so softly Rodney almost didn't hear it. "Honestly, it's been an incredibly crappy day for me. As long as it's decent, I'll be happy."

The woman at the desk was just eating up the attention, sitting up and offering Sheppard a broad smile. "There are a few places nearby. Mostly chain restaurants. There's a diner, too. Then the usual fast food stuff."

Rodney had watched Sheppard long enough to know the other man was pretty much oblivious to it. He just didn't get it. "The diner actually will probably work perfectly. Is it in walking distance, or will we need a cab?"

"Two blocks down to the right," she said helpfully. Rodney was curious to see if she'd offer to take him there, too. Or maybe walk him there.

"Perfect. Thanks. I appreciate it." Sheppard shot her another of those blinding smiles.

The girl at the desk just about melted. God. And he just didn't see it. "Just keep your friend away from me," she said, her eyes sliding to Rodney for a second before she returned all her attention to Sheppard.

"No problem." Sheppard almost made that sound like it was for his benefit, and not hers. He gave her one last smile before turning and heading back to Rodney. "What did you do to that poor girl that's got her so worked up?"

"Nothing," Rodney said, trying not to blush with embarrassment. With Sheppard it was so…easy and there was no way he was going to tell him he struck out with the hotel check-in girl. "I just demanded that she actually do her job. She's in customer service. She's supposed to make me happy."

With a soft laugh, Sheppard put a hand on Rodney's shoulder to lead him out the door. "Let's go get something to eat. There's a diner a few blocks from here, so we can walk."

"I didn't do anything to her," he grumbled, letting Sheppard lead him and trying not to think too much about the weight of his hand on his shoulder or how it warmed that one spot. "It's not my fault that she took exception to my requests." He glared at the girl one last time. "Maybe it's because she was intimidated by my good looks and my brilliance. Maybe I should go back and talk to her again."

Sheppard chuckled again, squeezing Rodney's shoulder. "Ahh, why don't you let it sink in and try again another day? Give her time to come to terms with your magnetic power."

"Ooo. Good plan," Rodney said, offering Sheppard a broad smile.

Sheppard's smile turned softer, more affectionate. "Any time, buddy. Any time."

"Maybe I can try again tomorrow. I'll be here for a few days, I'm sure," Rodney said looking away, trying to hide how much that smile affected him.

"Yeah. You could do that. Or, you know, we can keep an eye out. Maybe find someone who's not as intimidated by you. You need someone who can keep up with you." God, the easy way Sheppard just brought you into his intimate circle like that...

"But she's cute," he said, trying to cover his envy and unease. He glanced over his shoulder again but they'd walked too far to see anything. It was just him and Sheppard. The two of them. Alone. Maybe this wasn't the best idea he'd had. "This is my new start."

"True." Sheppard still had one arm flung over Rodney's shoulder. "But you'd get bored with her after a while. You need someone cute, who's got a brain to back it up."

"You're right," he said, turning back to Sheppard, trying not to think about the arm over his shoulders and how close they were. "You know, you know all this stuff. You should help me out. You're…Kirk. You have all the moves."

Hardly." Sheppard's face scrunched up. "I'll help out if you want, but I think you'd be disappointed in my actual track record. I haven't actually had sex in probably a year or more."

"Okay. I know that's a lie," he said shrugged out from under Sheppard's arm. He wasn't looking for pity, not from him. "I've heard the stories."

"That's all they were... stories." Sheppard shrugged. "I've been pretty much celibate for a while. I know how to flirt, yes, but that's about all I ever do."

"I find that hard to believe," Rodney said with a snort, sending the other man a look of disbelief. He could probably name five off the top of his head and that was in the last six months! "But it doesn't matter. You know all the lines. I'm sure you can help me get laid. I have a much larger pool here than I did on Atlantis."

"I can try if you want. Not sure how helpful I'll be. Honestly, women are interesting and sex is okay, but it never compared to the thrill of flying." Sheppard shrugged again.

"Sex is just okay!" He exclaimed, looking at the other man like he crazy. He had to be to say that. But, why was he encouraging Sheppard to get laid? "Well, I'm sure you'll be able to give me all kinds of pointers while I'm staying with you."

One of Sheppard's eyebrows went up, an odd smile hovering at the corners of his mouth. "Staying with me? They didn't give you your own room?"

Room. Oh. No. He hadn't asked that. He just expected to bunk with Sheppard. Another lie quickly fell from his mouth. "No. They claimed they were sold out."

It was almost like tension flowed out of Sheppard, his smile easier as he chuckled. "Well, you're more than welcome. I don't know how long the SGC has me checked in for, but I'm sure there are a few days, at least."

"Two weeks." He guessed. It was probably about right. Maybe.

"Oh." Sheppard relaxed further. "Well, that gives us some time."

Time. Yes. Lots and lots of time. "Least it's more comfortable than the off-world tents we use."

"I'm convinced even the ground would be more comfortable than those things." Sheppard shook his head, then pointed ahead of them. "There's the diner."

"Oh, good. I could eat a horse." Food! He was so hungry. He stepped out, eyes fixed on the building across the street. The blaring horn from the swerving minivan made his heart stop, but it certainly didn't disrupt his brain-mouth connection. "Idiot driver! Look where you're going!"

He caught a wince from Sheppard as he followed along behind. "I have to admit, I'm not really hungry, but I'll try to eat a little something."

"I'm always hungry. You should know that. I have to watch my blood sugar."

"I know." Sheppard nodded. "And it scares the shit out of me when you just eat a PowerBar. I feel much better when I know you've had a good meal."

Rodney stopped, turning to look at Sheppard. How could he say that of PowerBars. He'd gotten through college and most of Atlantis on them. "Those are great, though. Compact, easy to carry with me." He paused, realizing that he had to buy them himself from now on. "Oh no."

"What? Sheppard's body was already going into soldier-mode, even as he grabbed Rodney's arm to get him the rest of the way across the street.

Rodney let Sheppard pull him forward. "Where am I going to get unlimited access to MREs?"

Pausing, Sheppard actually turned a little green. "Ug. Those things are disgusting. You have access to a grocery store now. You can eat real food."

"They are real food! They're safe. I know which ones I like. They last forever. They're like the perfect food."

Sheppard actually turned even greener. It was an interesting color on him. "No. You can get fresh food and cook it. Then you'll know exactly what's in the food, and it will be real food, not super-processed."

Rodney made a face. That was a lot of work for very little return. The ROI just wasn't there. He shook his head. "I don't cook."

"I'll buy you one of those beginner cookbooks."

Rodney sighed, walking with Sheppard as he headed to the diner. He didn't want a cookbook. Most of his own cooking ended in disaster. "I own…well, I owned one pot to make mac and cheese. Everything else was frozen TV dinners or fast food." Rodney paused for a moment. "I had a coffee pot, too. And a mug."

After a moment, Sheppard burst out laughing. A real laugh, and not the strained one of the last week. "That doesn't surprise me. I'm not really one to talk since I'm not a whole lot better, but it's not all that hard. Once you get settled somewhere, I'll come throw you a housewarming and buy you some kitchen stuff."

Rodney scowled, shaking his head. "We're not girls, Sheppard."

"Yeah, I noticed that." For a brief moment, it was almost like Sheppard was coming on to him. Then the other man kept talking. "But honestly, I spent a lot of time getting you in shape. If I can do something to help you stay healthy, I'm willing to sacrifice my manhood for an afternoon."

In shape? Like exercise? There was no way he was exercising. "What? Why?"

Sheppard shot him a look out of the corner of his eye as they stepped inside the diner. "Don't worry. I'm just going to get you a new pot, and a one-pot cookbook. That's all I ever use, and it's not hard."

Rodney narrowed his eyes at Sheppard, trying to decide is he was trying to purposely insult him. "What's wrong with how I lived before? I was fine."

"Nothing." Sheppard shrugged. "But you'd you feel better than you did before, with a little bit of exercise and eating a little better overall?"

"I don't know," Rodney shrugged. He felt fine. Usually. Except for the caffeine headaches and the other aches and pains in his back and his…oh yeah, that whole lack of sex thing. "I don't think about it."

"Well, it's not like I'm your mother or anything. I won't force it. Just suggesting. It's not that hard."

The image of Sheppard came and went in his head and really screwed with him. He couldn't get it out of his mind fast enough. He slid into the booth all the way in the back of the restaurant. Apparently, they weren't good enough for the front of the house. "I tried cooking once," he admitted, taking the menu and cracking it open. "I was in college at the time. I decided it would be a good exercise in chemistry. It didn't work as well as I'd anticipated."

One eyebrow went up as Sheppard took a seat across from him. "I would think it would appeal to your scientific nature. That's all cooking really is...science."

"I thought so, too," Rodney said quietly, thinking back to when he was younger, much younger. He'd been determined to cook for himself. How hard could it be? His mother could cook and she was barely able to do anything except lay around the house. But that was something he didn't even want to get into. "The fire department and the college administrators didn't agree."

Another pause, and Sheppard was laughing again. The real, honest laugh. "McKay, never change."

He glared across the table at the other man, narrowing his eyes. Honestly, he wasn't mad. He liked hearing Sheppard's laugh, but he had appearances to uphold. "You know, I didn't come here to be mocked. I was thirteen at the time. It's not my fault that I didn't know butter could flame."

"I wasn't mocking you. Honestly, I still feel guilty you're here, but at the same time, I'm glad you are. I don't think there's anyone else I'd want by my side, going through all this shit." And there was the soft, affectionate smile again.

Rodney had to look away. He knew he was horrible at hiding his emotions and the last thing he wanted to do was let Sheppard really know how he felt and what he wanted. Sheppard was his friend and really, really straight. He opened the menu, holding it up for a few minutes as he paged through it can gathered his thoughts. "Don't thank me. I didn't actually help you any."

"Maybe not in saving my job. But whether you know it or not, you're probably the only thing keeping me sane and moving forward right now." It was a soft, and somewhat surprising, admission coming from a man who normally tried to avoid all things emotional. When Rodney peeked at him, Sheppard was hiding behind his menu, too.

Something made him open his mouth again, the honest words surprised him. "You're the one who's going to land on his feet. I have grand plans, but knowing my track record, nothing will actually pan out. I'll be trapped living in my sister's basement for the rest of my life, never getting laid."

"I doubt that. You're too brilliant to stay down for long." Sheppard peered over his menu, a small smile hovering on his lips. "We'll both land on our feet, I hope."

Oh, Rodney was going to make sure Sheppard landed on his feet. He'd do whatever it took. "So what are you getting?"

"I don't know. Something light. What about you? What sounds good?"

That was really the problem, everything looked good. After eating MREs and PowerBars and mystery meat this was heaven. He ended up ordering way too much food—but oh my god, how could he pass up even one thing?! There was a…slight incident involving lemons, but everything ended up okay in the end—although he was never leaving home without an Epi pen again. Ever.

He also discovered the weirdest thing ever about Sheppard. He was "the" Sheppard from Sheppard Industries. How had be never connected any of that together before? It had to be a brain hiccup or something because, honestly, how could he not have known? The whole Pegasus Kirk thing should have been a dead give-away. Well, that and the name.

By the end of the meal, though, Rodney had a game plan. Sheppard wasn't as dumb as he looked and he needed to get his Masters if he was ever going to make something of himself. Once Rodney got a cell phone and a new laptop, he knew a few calls he needed to make, emails he needed to send.

There was no way he was going to let Sheppard down. He was going to make sure he landed on his feet and was able to thumb his nose at the SGC and the IOA, to show them that he didn't need anything from the government.

And if it took Rodney to show them, then so be it.

****

After sleeping like the dead—the bed was more comfortable than it looked—Sheppard woke him up with coffee after he'd been disgustingly healthy and had gone for a run.

They finally got moving, eating breakfast, stopping at the bank, and taxiing over to the mall. It was almost as bad as walking into a Wraith worshippers' village, but they needed supplies. First stop was the cell phone store. He needed a phone and had no intention of getting a landline since he wasn't even sure where he'd end up. A good cell phone and a flexible plan were best.

A guy who looked like he was barely out of high school wandered over. "Hello, can I help you?"

"We need cell phones," Rodney said. "Why else do you think we'd be here?"

They kid hesitated. "Well, we have a wide selection here at Cell Heaven. First, why don't you tell me a little bit about what you plan to use your phone for. Then I can help you choose a phone and plan that will best suit your individual needs."

"I want the best you have to offer." He glanced at Sheppard. "He'll take something that works."

"Hey!" Sheppard made a face. "I want something cool."

"You have the attention span of a gnat. Are you really going to learn how to use something complicated? Be honest."

John rolled his eyes. "I think I can learn how to use a cell phone."

"Right," Rodney said, turning back to the teenager. "What's the newest phone you've got?"

The kid blinked. "Well sir, if you'll come over here, I can show you our collection of smart phones."

"Do you actually know the products you're selling?"

The kid licked his lips. "If you'll tell me the features that you are most interested in, I can show you a variety of products that will suit your needs."

"I want the best. Is that so difficult to comprehend?"

Sheppard wandered over to a display. "These look cool."

"What are you looking at? Is that even a real phone?"

"Of course it's a real phone. They don't sell fake ones in a cell phone store."

"I'm not so sure about that," Rodney said, taking the phone out of John's hands. "This one only has a one mega pixel camera. It's junk."

"I'm not here to buy a camera, I'm here to buy a cool phone."

"But that's not a cool phone. You need at least five mega pixels if you want a cool phone."

Rolling his eyes, Sheppard put the phone back. "So what would you say is a cool phone?"

Rodney tugged him over to the other side of the store where the salesman was watching them with interest. "These. They are designed to be smart phones. They do everything. Email, internet, photos, documents, music…"

"Do they have games?" He picked one up and started messing with it.

"Of course. You can download all kinds of apps for it."

"Cool!"

"Which one do you have?" Rodney asked, taking the phone from John's hands. "Oh. What is this brand? I've never heard of it. Get something else."

"Okay, what about that one?" Sheppard pointed to another phone.

"Mmm. Nokias aren't bad. You can look at it."

The sales kid came back over. "That's a very fine model, sir."

"Yes, of course, it is. It's $200. Where are the better phones?"

"This is how much?" Sheppard looked up. "For a cell phone?"

"That's a mid-range model. Some of them are close to five or six hundred."

Sheppard stared at him, then put it down. "Okay, I can't see paying that much for a phone."

"You have the money," Rodney said as he turned to the other phones. Ooo. An iPhone.

"That's not the point. It's a phone. And no, I don't have a ton of money. I have a little saved up from hazard pay, but I'm not rolling in it."

"You have a ton of money," Rodney said, playing with the screens. This was nice. Really nice.

"I've got enough to get me settled somewhere and pay for me to live while I figure out what to do now, but I'm not rolling in a ton of money."

"Yes, you are."

John rolled his eyes. "My family might, but I don't. I told you, my father and I didn't part of the best of terms, and I doubt they'd look kindly on my coming back now."

"Just because you don't take advantage of the money you have doesn't mean you're not well off," he said before turning back to the salesman. "Okay. What are we talking of in terms of price?"

"That's the point, I don't have it. And I'll get something a little cheaper. Maybe $50 is all I want to spend on a phone."

The sales kid looked like he was at a bad tennis match. "Uh. That one? I think it's $499."

"Huh. Not bad. And the service plan?"

"There are a few potential plans, ranging from $40 per month for basic service, to $150 per month for unlimited everything."

"Carrier is AT&T?"

"Yeah, they're the only ones who have that phone."

Rodney turned to Sheppard. "Make sure you get an AT&T phone."

"Okay, which ones are those?"

"I don't know. You can read, I'm sure of it. Or ask the useless sales guy."

"Um." The sales guy was playing tennis between them again.

"So, what kind of plans are available?" Rodney asked instead.

"Ah, What are you looking for, sir? I can help you find the right plan if I know what it is you need."

"How hard was it to comprehend that question?" Rodney asked Sheppard. "What kind of plans are available? Simple. Concise."

"I think he's intimidated by you."

"A spread sheet would be a viable and acceptable answer. Or even a flow chart."

"These are cell phone plans you're talking about. I think they make them complicated on purpose. And what do you think of this phone?" Sheppard held up a simple, basic phone.

"It doesn't play games."

"I'm thinking now, that I'll just get a good computer that can play them. I'd rather spend the money there."

"There are also hand-held gaming devices," Rodney said absently. "But make sure your phone can get text messages."

"Do they sell them anymore if they can't?"

"I don't know everything about cell phones. Ask the crack salesman."

They both turned to look at the kid, who had a sort of 'there's a Wraith about to eat me' look on his face.

It took about two hours for them to finally settle on two phones and the corresponding cell plans. They had way too many minutes, but it least it wouldn't cost them a fortune extra since they'd be mainly using the free mobile-to-mobile minutes.

Then it was time for the computer store. Heaven. Sheer heaven.

John looked around. "Tell you what, I'll let you handle this. I know when to defer to my expert."

"And you're not going to argue with me about the price."

"Well, I don't want to spend a small fortune."

Rodney scowled. "Do you or do you not want my help?"

"I do, just... don't spend all my money, okay?"

"You have plenty. You'll get something that will last more than two weeks."

Sheppard rolled his eyes, but shrugged. "I don't have plenty, but I don't think you're really listening to me on that point."

"I always listen to you, but I'm the expert in this situation. It's just like a mission."

"I agree you're the expert computer guy, but, let's just cap my computer at, say, $1,000. Okay?"

"You'd spend more on a gaming system. This computer will be your life. You need to spend more than that."

"How much are we talking?"

"You want to game?"

"I don't know. I guess. Probably."

Rodney snapped his fingers. "Yes or no?"

"I'll probably play some games on it, but I don't know if I'll be 'hard-core' or anything."

Rodney sniffed. "Do you need something to support your soon-to-be gaming addiction, which means you need a good computer that can handle the graphics. I'd say…$1500 to two grand. Tops."

Sheppard actually paled a bit. "All right. I guess..."

Rodney sighed. "Look. If I can find you a deal, I will, but you need to be prepared to spend a little money."

He sighed. "I know. I trust you."

Rodney tried to ignore how those words made him feel warm inside. "Well, yes. Of course you trust me. I'm an expert in these things."

Sheppard put an arm around his shoulder as they walked into the store. "I know I'm in good hands."

The computer sales man was even dumber than the one in the cell store.

It was John who discovered a whole section of the store where you could basically design your own system. Rodney had been busy arguing with the stupid people.

It was better this way—and the store promised the custom computers before they left the store. Sheppard settled for something basic, but powerful enough to play games and do everything. Rodney, though, ended up with a top of the line model with every single bell and whistle imaginable.

He needed it to be able to run the Ancient stuff he may have smuggled through the gate.

Sheppard had thrown in a few of the latest games with his purchase, as well. "If you want to install these on yours, too, I think we can play together online with some of these."

"What golf?" Rodney asked as they waited for the custom computers to come out. They were wandering through the music area and he'd spotted iPods.

"That one, and one of the RPGs."

Rodney snorted, picking up an iPod. "I need one of these."

"Okay. Let's get one then."

"One for me. You need to get your own."

"Do I need one?"

"First, you listen to crappy music and I'm not putting your music on my iPod. Second, we're not going to be living in the same place once we get settled and I'm not writing a custody agreement for an iPod and shipping it back and forth."

John laughed. "All right. Grab me one too."

"You need to have at least some input. This is your iPod."

"I trust you. You'll take care of me."

"And I trust that you have a brain under all that hair. Look around and pick something you can use."

"It's an iPod. They're all the same except for how much storage they've got, right?"

"No. They're all different. Different storage. Different options for video. There's touch screens or the wheel thing. Look around," Rodney said, gesturing with his hand.

John started wandering around, looking at each of the models, and playing with all of them before he made a decision.

Rodney watched him for a few minutes, wondering how Sheppard would be able to manage on his own once Rodney wasn't there to tell him what to do. But he wasn't dumb. He had a brain and brain cells that were actually working. It just bothered him that Sheppard didn't think much of his abilities.

"What do you think of this one?" John held up an—of course—black model with mid-range storage.

"Good. Will you have enough room for all of your Cash albums?"

"Ha ha. I'll just put the songs I like on here."

"So that means you'll have plenty of room since you'll only have 'Man in Black' on there playing over and over and over on a continuous cycle. You know, it doesn't hurt to venture out into new territory."

John made a face at him, but got a sealed box and walked back over. "For your information, I happen to have wide tastes in music. Cash is just my favorite."

"Sure, you do," Rodney said, patting John on the shoulder as he walked past him, deciding on purchasing the biggest iPod he could find.

"What else do we need to get while we wait?"

"That should be enough. Why don't you go back to customer service and see if the computers are ready yet."

"All right." John wandered off.

Rodney poked around a little bit more, grabbing the Office suite for his computer along with a few other programs. He needed something mindless to do once he finished getting John all set up.

The computers were ready about an hour later and they finally headed back to the hotel where he could set everything up—phones and laptops, both. Rodney immediately set up his email account and started emailing contacts he knew at a few universities. He'd get Sheppard into one of them through the force of his will.

From across the room, Sheppard looked up from where he had been playing with his new computer once Rodney had gotten it all set up for him. "Um... would you help me write a resume?"

Rodney glanced up, half-paying attention. He had not time to write a resume. "Just download a template off the net and then tweak it. It's easy."

"There are millions of them. Which one do I start with?"

"Pick a few and look. If you don't like them, keep going."

Sheppard was quiet for a while, so Rodney thought he was fine, until another question popped up. "Okay, I have one. Now what?"

"What?" Rodney asked, blinking at Sheppard. He's been in the middle of an email to the dean at MIT.

"What do I put on it?" John shifted around in his seat and didn't look Rodney in the eye. "I mean, I could just put 'Air Force' but that doesn't seem like enough."

"Oh. Resumes. Put in your positions…your ranks. Then list the various responsibilities."

"Most of them are still considered top secret, so I can't say anything about them. I mean, 'military commander of the lost city of Atlantis' probably won't get me in the door."

McKay sighed. Was Sheppard this clueless? He really hadn't thought so, but now he was having second thoughts. It was more proof that he'd made the right decision to leave Atlantis to make sure Sheppard was on his feet when he went out into the world. "Lieutenant Colonel. In charge of…how many soldiers? Managed the lemmings, organized training missions, ran special operations. Fudge it."

"Oh. Okay." He fell silent again, plucking away at the computer.

Rodney shook his head and went back to his emails, even more convinced now that these were of the utmost importance.

He didn't know how long it had taken, but Sheppard looked up and interrupted him again. "Okay, I think I'm done. Will you look at it for me?"

"Yeah yeah," Rodney waved his hand. "Email it to me."

"What's your email address?" John paused. "Wait a minute, I don't have an email address anymore."

"Set one up on Google. It's free."

"Oh. Okay." Rodney heard more typing. "What should I call it?"

Rodney tried not to sigh. "Whatever you want. Preferably something you'd remember."

He heard a soft chuckle. "What's your email address? I want to send this to you."

"RodneyMcKayPhDPhD at gmail dot com."

A few seconds later, his email pinged.

Rodney finished the sentence he was working on and then switched over to his inbox. His eyes skimmed the address and then he had to go back and read it again. No. Fucking. Way. "Cowboyflyboy! What the hell were you thinking?"

Sheppard was grinning broadly. "It's just an email address. What else should it be?"

"Something sane! Something professional." Rodney could feel his blood pressure rising.

"What's wrong with that one?"

"Do you actually want to tell people that you're an insane pilot who does whatever the hell he wants? What kind of first impression are you trying to give?"

With an eye-roll and another chuckle, Sheppard shrugged. "It's fine. Just tell me if the resume is okay. If I'm going to start job hunting, I need it to be half-way decent."

"You might want to start with a normal email address," Rodney grumbled, but did open up the file Sheppard had sent. He made several changes and sent it back.

They settled on a place for dinner and Rodney discovered the chocolate cake. He came back to the room stuffed to the gills, but really content—especially with the chocolate cake taste he had in his mouth. It had been amazing. He wanted more to bring back with them but there really was nowhere to keep it.

Unfortunately, the subject of his sister had come up and he may have accidentally offered to bring Sheppard there. So, he had to call her and see if it was actually okay. It wasn't a phone call he wanted to make, but at this point, he didn't have many choices. Until he found a job, he'd have to live with her and her English major husband.

Sheppard had brought him coffee when he got back from the insane early morning run thing, so he braced himself for the call.

The phone rang three times before someone picked up.

"Hello? Maddie! No! Put that down!"

"Jeannie?"

There was a long pause. "Meredith? Is that you?"

"Ah, yeah. Hi. Long time no talk."

"What happened? What's wrong? What's going to blow up this time?"

"Nothing. I'm in Colorado and I wanted to say hi." He cringed. "You know, maybe come for a visit."

There was another long pause. "What happened? What did you break that couldn't be fixed?"

"I didn't break anything! It's just…it's a long story and I'm back here. I'm with Colonel Sheppard."

"Meredith. What. Happened?"

"Nothing happened! Well, something did happen, but it wasn't my fault."

She let out a huge sigh. "Are you going to waste my time hedging, or are you just going to tell me what's wrong?"

"Why do you always think something's wrong? I was calling to see if we could come for a visit."

"Because you didn't talk to me for years, and then only broke the silence because something was wrong. And now, after just a few short emails, you're showing up again and calling out of the blue."

"I'm back. You're the first person I'm calling. That should amount for something." Rodney shot a quick glance at Sheppard who was playing on his computer and trying to not openly eavesdrop.

"It does, but I want to know why you're back, and the fact that you won't tell me says it's something bad."

"You know, you're just as annoying now as you were when you were a child."

"Ditto."

"I'm asking a simple question that I know you have the brain capacity to comprehend. Can Sheppard and I come up for a visit?"

"Of course you can, but maybe instead of acting like as ass, you could actually talk to me? Or is that too much for your brain capacity to handle?"

"Of course I can talk to you. What do you think I'm doing now?"

"It's certainly not talking. You're just repeating the same thing over and over."

"And so are you, and yet we're having a conversation. Did you get Madison those piano lessons yet?"

"No, and stop trying to change the subject. I'm not repeating myself, I'm asking a question that you refuse to answer."

"It's of no consequence to the question I called to ask you about. Now why are you hedging my question? It's because you didn't sign her up, isn't it? I told you I'd pay for them."

"I didn't hedge the question. I said no. She's not interested, and I'm not going to force it. She's too young right now for that. And it is of consequence to the reason you're calling, because you obviously only want to come here because you're in trouble. Put John on, if he's really there. He'll at least answer my questions."

"He's busy," Rodney said, glancing back at the pilot. He looked like he was concentrating hard on something. "You're going to miss this opportunity with Madison if you don't start with her early on. Mom and dad—"

"If you ever want to speak with me again, you will stop that sentence right now. I don't give a rat's ass what they did or didn't do. I am not sacrificing my daughter's childhood. She is a happy, well-adjusted girl, and I won't have anyone jeopardize that."

Rodney snorted. "Well-adjusted? She demands presents from strangers."

"She is a child, all kids do that."

"No, they don't."

"And you're the expert on normal child behavior?"

"I'm a genius. I know these things." And she didn't understand. She didn't know what it took to properly nurture a genius and Madison had all the qualities.

"You're a maladjusted person with the social skills of a gnat."

"Like you would know that. Look," Rodney said with a sigh. "Can we come or not?"

"I already said yes, but if you think you can just waltz in here and not tell me what the hell is going on, you've got another thing coming."

"So you tell me all the time. When?"

"When are you going to actually act like an adult? I have no idea, you tell me."

Rodney sighed. "When do you want us to show up?"

"Whenever you want. Where are you now and when will you get clearance to leave?"

"We already have clearance. We can leave as soon as we book tickets."

"Then book then and send me the information so I know when to pick you up from the airport."

"I'll arrange it so we arrive at the weekend. Saturday sometime. Will that be okay or it is cutting into your social schedule?"

"Cut the crap, Mer. Just call me and let me know when your flight arrives."

"Fine."

"Fine. I'll see you in a few days. Tell John I said hi."

"Yeah, sure," he said as he hung up. He wanted to throw the phone against the wall, but it would ruin a really good phone. She just didn't understand.

"How's your sister doing?"

"Good. Fine," he said sharply. "She refuses to give Madison piano lessons. I told her I'd pay for them, but she still refuses." Rodney shook his head. She just didn't understand. "She expects us at the weekend."

Sheppard blinked at him. "Why do you want your niece to take piano lessons?"

"She has the McKay genes. She'd be great at it. I want her to get tested, too, but Jeannie won't let me do that either. You need to nurture geniuses from an early age."

"Maybe she wants Madison to have a normal childhood first, and then she can make decisions about the rest of her life when she's a little older."

Oh great. He was going to get this from Sheppard, too. Neither of them knew what they were talking about. They didn't know the time and effort you had to put into geniuses when they were young. "She needs to start when she's young. This is the time to start. If they wait, they'll lose precious time!"

"Maybe Madison won't want to be an academic." Sheppard gave him a look. "Take it from me—if the parents try to push something the child doesn't want, it will backfire."

"You have no idea what's it's like to be a genius," Rodney said through gritted teeth. "It takes a lot of dedication and training."

"I can imagine," Sheppard shrugged. "And I can't imagine what kind of childhood you had. All I can tell you is that my father tried to make me into something, and he pushed so hard I left and never looked back."

"And look where it got you." Rodney got to his feet, suddenly needing to be away—somewhere else. "I need some air."

"McKay—Rodney." Sheppard apparently just realized he wasn't helping matters. "I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to be offensive."

"Just…" he said, shrugging out of Sheppard's grasp and stepping around him. "You have no idea what's it's like. No idea. I only want what's best for her." He took a breath. "I'll be back in a while. We can make reservations then."

He walked out, not even looking back to see what Sheppard's reaction would be.

He walked. For how long, he didn't know. So what if his parents weren't the best example of good parents. His father understood what it took to nurture genius. He demanded a lot from him, but in the end it was for the best. Rodney couldn't imagine what he'd be doing right now if he hadn't been pushed and challenged from a very young age.

When he'd finally managed to calm himself down, he discovered he'd ended up at the local grocery store. He headed inside searching out comfort foods—Hostess cakes and potato chips and beer. He slowly made his way back to the hotel, eating a cupcake and washing it down with a few swigs of beer. He found John still in the room, the television on in the background.

"Here." Rodney dropped the bags in John's lap before heading to the bed.

John's tone was cautious. "What's this?"

"A peace offering. I might have started without you though. Sorry."  
Sheppard tossed him a beer. "I'm the one who's sorry. I shouldn't have said anything."

Rodney sighed, sitting up. "It's just a…sensitive subject."

"Yeah." They both drank in silence for a moment, and Rodney watched as John tipped his chair back. "I won't bring it up again."

"It's just that…" Rodney sighed quietly again. "If it wasn't for my father, I wouldn't have accomplished anything. Jeannie…she gave it all up to have a family. I resented that. Sometimes I still do. I want to make sure Madison has every opportunity."

"I can understand that. The only reason I said anything was because I had the opposite experience. Everyone was so intent on cramming me into the mold they wanted for me, no one stopped to ask what I wanted. And when I finally voiced what I wanted, it caused fights and ultimately led to me being estranged from my entire family."

"This is different."

"Probably. Every family, every kid is different. Just... don't decide what Madison should be without asking her, okay?"

For some reason he needed Sheppard to understand. "If she doesn't try it, she won't know what is available to her. Jeannie won't even let her try something…anything that might mean she's as smart as her mother."

"And I agree that's not the way to go either. The best thing in that situation is let her try anything she expresses any interest in, and if she does have a real aptitude and love for something, encourage her to keep at it. I'd guess your sister is probably just going the extreme opposite. Maybe you could propose something to meet her in the middle? Once she realized that letting Madison try didn't mean she was losing her childhood, she'd probably be more open to suggestions."

Rodney shrugged, taking a sip of his beer, using the time to shape his words. "She's smart. Really smart. Jeannie just…refuses to see that."

The other man gave him a sympathetic look. "Well, maybe while you're visiting, you can find a way to broach the subject. If you're up for some advice, don't try to tell Jeannie what she has to do. No woman, especially a mom, wants to hear that."

"Madison could be…amazing." Rodney could see it, could see her future laid out before her.

"And she will be." Sheppard's smile made his heart catch a little. "If she's anywhere near as smart as you, whatever path she ends up on, no matter when she starts it, I'm sure she'll shine."

"If she's given the right opportunities when she's young."

Sheppard was silent for a while. "So when is she expecting you? Jeannie, I mean?"

Rodney took another swig of his beer, letting Sheppard change the subject. "She's expecting us at the weekend. We can do laundry there, so we should just pack everything. We can figure out what we're going to do once we get there."

"You're sure it's okay that I'm coming? I really don't want to impose, especially if you and your sister want to catch up."

Rodney gestured with his free hand. "Trust me, I need some kind of a buffer. You've been volunteered. Ever since you showed her that tape…" Rodney shrugged again, trying not to think about what was on that tape and how it had felt like knowing Sheppard had done that. He took another swig of his beer. "Trust me. She wants you there more than she wants me."

"I doubt that. And speaking of clothes, I haven't worn much in the way of civvies in a long time. I have a few things, but I'm starting to run low. Much as I hate to, I think I'm going to have to actually go to a department store."

Rodney felt his eyes widen. "You're kidding. Just turn your boxers inside out. You'll be fine."

"I already have." To Rodney's surprise, the other man actually blushed. "I had a few pairs that weren't military-owned, but not much. I'm going to start to smell if I don't get some clean clothes."

"Oh." Smelling was bad. Rodney understood that. "Okay. Now?"

"Well, not right this moment, but today, probably. Unless you had a better idea."

Rodney considered it for a moment. "We should do it before we drink all the beer."

"All right. I just need a few things so I don't smell." Sheppard was laughing softly as he stood up.

McKay drained the last bit of his beer and went to stand. He ended up listing to the side and chuckled a little nervously. He hadn't been buzzed like this in years. "Whoa. I guess three in a row was a little much."

Sheppard was suddenly there, his hand warm against Rodney's skin. "I can live without clothes for the day. I don't want you to hurt yourself."

"I'll be fine." He shook off Sheppard's hand, trying not to think about how it felt. He swayed again as he took a few steps toward the door.

Sheppard followed close behind, looking worried.

The pilot managed to hail a cab without incident and they headed back to the mall. Rodney, thankfully, found himself to be mostly sober by the time they got there. He really had no choice in the matter. He'd picked this course and he was sticking to it—even if it killed him.

****

Saturday came too quickly.

Rodney was just starting to enjoy the routine he and Sheppard had, the quiet conversations, the relaxing hanging out time. But as the actual time approached to see his sister, he started having doubts.

He knew he wasn't a good brother. The alternative reality Rod had proved that beyond the shadow of a doubt. Rod was there for Jeannie and her kids. He actually knew her husband's name. He did things with them. The whole not talking thing for four years never happened.

Rod was not him.

And after the last conversation with his sister, he knew he was going to get grilled as soon as she got him alone.

Sure enough, as soon as John headed upstairs with the bags, she was on him. "So?"

"So what?"

"Are you actually going to tell me what the hell is going on, or are you still busy pretending to be stupid?"

"We're visiting you last I checked."

She rolled her eyes. "You never do anything without an ulterior motive."

"Look," he said, leaning forward. "The SGC booted Sheppard out the door. I'm just trying to make sure he gets back on his feet. I figured he could use a little R&R before he went back to trying to find a new job."

She blinked. "So why are you here? They fire you when he wasn't there to stick up for you?"

"No, I quit."

She raised an eyebrow, clearly showing she didn't believe him. "Whatever. I'm going to work out in the back yard."

"Fine. I'm borrowing your car."

"The keys are on the counter."

"Try and be nice to Sheppard. He's had a few rough weeks."

She just waved him off, heading out the back door.

Taking a deep breath, Rodney headed out. He'd seen a grocery store on the way in. He'd pick up some stuff he knew Sheppard would like—like meat and real food—and maybe some beer. It wouldn't take long.

Sure enough, the store was exactly where he remembered. He parked and headed in, wandering through the aisles with his shopping cart. He had always liked food shopping. It was something that surprised him early on when he was on his own. To some people it was a chore, but he liked picking out the best products for the best price. It was almost a game.

He could lose himself in it for a little while, not think about all the stuff waiting for him back at the house.

He had a sister who hated him. A friend who he liked more than was really appropriate. A spoiled brat niece and a brother-in-law who couldn't stand up for anything. And what was worse was that he would probably be trapped there for the foreseeable future.

This wasn't exactly how he had planned things would work out.

His phone buzzed indicating a new email so he pulled it out and tapped through to the right view. David Sheppard. Perfect. He opened it up, scrolling through the email.

****

From: Dave [mailto:d.sheppard@sheppardindustries.com]  
Sent: Wednesday, May 16, 2007 03:07 PM   
To: M. Rodney McKay [mailto:rodneymckayphdphd@gmail.com]

Subject. Re: Your brother John

Dr. McKay -   
How do you know my brother, and why are you writing to me on his behalf. I am afraid I don't know what you're looking for here. Please be more specific. Thank you.   
-David Sheppard.

****

Rodney pulled the cart over and parked it, hitting reply on his phone.

****

From: M. Rodney McKay [mailto:rodneymckayphdphd@gmail.com]  
Sent: Wednesday, May 16, 2007 03:10 PM   
To: Dave [mailto:d.sheppard@sheppardindustries.com]

Subject. Re: Your brother John

David-  
I have worked with your brother for the past three years on a governmental project. Feel free to look up my credentials. You'll find I'm legitimate.  
I'll cut to the chase: John needs a job and you need to help him. He's saved hundreds of lives during his career and it's time for a change. When he contacts you, help him. That's all I'm asking.  
\- Rodney McKay, PhD PhD

****

A few minutes later, he got a response.

****

From: Dave [mailto:d.sheppard@sheppardindustries.com   
Sent: Wednesday, May 16, 2007 03:20 PM   
To: M. Rodney McKay [mailto:rodneymckayphdphd@gmail.com]

Subject. Re: Your brother John

Dr. McKay,   
I'm still not sure why you're asking for a job for my brother. He has a career in the military, and has chosen to distance himself from our family business.   
-David Sheppard

****

Rodney muttered to himself in the cereal aisle and started another reply.

****

From: M. Rodney McKay [mailto:rodneymckayphdphd@gmail.com]  
Sent: Wednesday, May 16, 2007 03:25 PM   
To: Dave [mailto:d.sheppard@sheppardindustries.com]

Subject. Re: Your brother John

That's the point. He's not in the military any more. They fired him because he did the right thing and the idiotic oversight committee got all high and mighty. You figure saving your commanding officer's life would be a good thing, wouldn't you?  
Just offer him a job.  
-Rodney

****

From: Dave [mailto:d.sheppard@sheppardindustries.com]   
Sent: Wednesday, May 16, 2007 03:30 PM   
To: M. Rodney McKay [mailto:rodneymckayphdphd@gmail.com]

Subject. Re: Your brother John

Wow, I'm not entirely sure what to say to that. I'll think about it, and talk with our family. I won't promise anything though. John has been gone a long time, and frankly, I'm not even sure he would want to return. But we'll discuss it.   
-David Sheppard

****

From: M. Rodney McKay [mailto:rodneymckayphdphd@gmail.com]  
Sent: Wednesday, May 16, 2007 03:35 PM   
To: Dave [mailto:d.sheppard@sheppardindustries.com]

Subject. Re: Your brother John

Trust me on this. He'll accept and be very happy about it.  
I can help put you in touch with some high-level projects if that sweetens the pot.  
-Rodney

****

From: Dave [mailto:d.sheppard@sheppardindustries.com]   
Sent: Wednesday, May 16, 2007 03:45 PM Subject.   
To: M. Rodney McKay [mailto:rodneymckayphdphd@gmail.com]

Re: Your brother John

There is no "pot" to sweeten. How did you say you know John again? And what do you do?   
-David Sheppard

****

Rodney sighed, getting a strange look from a passing shopper as he punched in a reply as he stood in the meat section.

"Mind your own business," he growled. "Life and death situations here."

****

From: M. Rodney McKay [mailto:rodneymckayphdphd@gmail.com]  
Sent: Wednesday, May 16, 2007 03:49 PM   
To: Dave [mailto:d.sheppard@sheppardindustries.com]

Re: Your brother John

I was the CSO on the base where John was last stationed. I've worked with him for the past three years and I left in protest of his removal from the base. John was the key reason we stayed alive as long as we did. He saved hundreds of people on more than one occasion. All I'm asking is that you give him a chance.  
-Rodney McKay

****

From: Dave [mailto:d.sheppard@sheppardindustries.com]   
Sent: Wednesday, May 16, 2007 03:45 PM   
To: M. Rodney McKay [mailto:rodneymckayphdphd@gmail.com]

Subject. Re: Your brother John

Like I said, I will talk with my family, and then we'll go from there. I know our father never wanted John to leave in the first place. We'll be in touch.   
-David Sheppard

****

Rodney nodded to himself as he locked the phone and put it in his pocket. It was something. A start that Sheppard desperately needed. He finished his shopping and checked out, heading back to the house.

When he arrived he heard loud voices coming from the kitchen. He paused, listening.

"…How long are you going to make him pay for his past mistakes? Even to the point of teaching your daughter that her Uncle is a horrible man she shouldn't have anything to do with?"

"I did no such thing."

Rodney was surprised at the venom in Sheppard's voice. "The first thing she said to me was that I was better than her uncle, and could I be her family instead because he's not a nice man."

Even Jeannie sounded a little taken aback. "I didn't say anything to her."

"You didn't have to. Kids pick up on a lot of things. She's only repeating the lessons she's learned from watching you. Which is why I said anything at all." Sheppard paused for a moment. "I didn't come here to yell at you, or accuse you. I came here because my friend asked me to, because he was terrified of the reception he was going to get."

The response was laced with all the contempt Rodney remembered growing up. It was a tone their mother had used often. "And yet he didn't ask you to go along on his field trip."

"Because he wasn't going on a field trip. He was running away to nurse the bruises before coming back to try again," Sheppard said, but Rodney had heard enough. He moved forward quietly, pausing at the entrance to the kitchen.

"No, I wasn't. I was getting some food that wasn't vegan."

Their heads whipped around, surprise on their faces. It didn't matter though. They'd said enough. More than enough. He moved into the kitchen, putting the bags on the counter. He dug the car keys out of his pocket. "Here. I seem to have lost my appetite. See you in the morning."

"Hey. Stop. Wait. Please!" Sheppard followed him up the stairs, managing to catch him just outside his bedroom door.

Rodney moved into the bedroom, almost managing to close the door in his face, but he wasn't fast enough. "Enjoy your dinner. I'm not in the mood for this."

"I'm not hungry." The skinny bastard slipped in. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything to her. I was just... trying to help. To make her understand how much you were putting on the line for her by coming here."

Rodney sighed, shaking his head. "It doesn't matter. Look. Go out and enjoy yourself. I'm a big boy. I'll be fine." Rodney glanced around the room, trying to figure out where he was going to sit. The bed looked like it was the only option. "I bought some burgers. She'll let you grill out back."

Instead of leaving, Sheppard sat down on the floor. "I'd rather stay here, if you'll let me. You're my friend, not your sister. If I have to choose, I'd rather spend my time up here with you."

"Sheppard…just…" He sighed, slumping down on the bed. "Look. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have pushed you to come."

"You have nothing to be sorry about." Sheppard's smile was so...earnest. So stupidly endearing.. "I'm the one who should be apologizing here. I just didn't want to see you get hurt, and I know how much it means to you to find a relationship with her. I thought... I guess I thought maybe I could make her see how incredible you are."

Rodney snorted and rolled his eyes. "Yeah. Sure."

"You are." There was so much conviction in John's voice. He really believed it, which was... Rodney did his best not to dwell on how that made him feel. It wasn't really appropriate.

Rodney let his body fall back onto the bed, his arms spread wide, and one hand hanging off the edge. The bed wasn't half bad. He might not be crippled in the morning. He sighed, trying to sort through his feelings of being here. "I don't know what I was expecting. I should have known everything wasn't going to be all light and roses."

"Maybe not, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't try. Or keep trying. I've seen you overcome impossible odds before."

"So, now you know all my secrets. My sister was always good at pointing out my finer points."

"You were a different person then. You're still you, but... I think she's judging you harshly, using a standard you could never live up to, even if you were the best brother on Earth. You're you. If she loves you, she has to accept you as you are, not as she might have dreamed you could be."

Rodney snorted again, chuckling humorlessly. "My father never did. As soon as he found out I was bi, he dropped me faster than a hot potato. And Jeannie…" He shook his head. "At first she couldn't believe it and then she ended up sounding just like our father. Things kind of went downhill from there."

"Bi what?" John sounded confused.

An intense feeling of "oh shit" ran though Rodney, his stomach dropping to his toes. He lifted his head, looking at John. "Oh. She didn't share that part yet, did she?" He paused. "Sorry."

"Share what part?" Sheppard was blinking at him. "Nothing to be sorry about though."

In for a penny…

Rodney rolled to his side. "Apparently the cat is out of the bag. I was sure that was the first thing my sister told you. I've known I was…sexually curious from an early age. I just don't…broadcast it around. My dad walked in on me and one of my friends in college. Wow. What an explosion. It was consensual. I still don't see what the issue was."

"Wait, you... with men? Why didn't I know that?" Rodney watched several emotions flirt across John's face, most notably surprise, and then indignation. But no disgust, no anger, which was... amazing.

Rodney tried not to think too much into it because that was just asking for trouble. "Because even I know not to share that with my straight commanding officer."

"I wouldn't have cared. There were several guys in Atlantis I knew played for the other team, but honestly, I never thought it had any effect on the job they did." Sheppard shrugged. "As long as it's consensual all around, have fun and enjoy has always been my philosophy."

"Some people have some very different opinions about that. I don't like to spread it around, so I didn't."

"I don't blame you." Sheppard was silent for a few minutes, and another odd expression crossed his face that Rodney couldn't place. It wasn't bad, but he wasn't sure exactly what it was. "So what's it like? With men?"

"Okay," Rodney said, rolling to a seated position, his brain screaming 'No!No!No! Danger Will Robinson!' "I'm not having his conversation with you. Can you go and grab me some dinner? I don't want to go back down there tonight. I'll take anything at this point. I know the lasagna won't be finished yet."

Sheppard actually blushed. As in, turned bright red and ducked his head like he was a five year old. "Sorry. That just sort of slipped out. I've never really thought about it before." He ran a hand through his hair, making it stand up even more than usual. "So anything I can rustle up? Any special requests?"

"Nothing citrus."

"Well, other than that." Sheppard grinned at him as he stood up, the same grin he always wore when he was teasing Rodney. Like nothing had changed. Huh.

"No, no other requests." He paused, tilting his head to the side as he remembered what's he'd picked up from the store. "Wait. A beer. I bought some."

"Oh, thank god." John grinned at him again, then slipped out the door.

Rodney let his body lean back, laying out on the bed again. What a mess. He was already getting the warning signs about coming here and outing himself to his best friend. Neither of them were really smart moves.

Rodney sighed. Why couldn't things be simple?

He had known he'd be walking into a minefield by coming here, but there really hadn't been another option. Sheppard's family wasn't ready to welcome the prodigal son home, so Rodney's sister had to be the stand-in for the moment. Even if it meant he'd be hated and abused every minute he stayed here.

The disagreement with his sister went deeper than the wedding to the English major. Jeannie always sided with their parents against him, claiming that he was the problem, the issue, and the reason why they couldn't be a real family. When you add in his sexual preferences, there was a whole other issue to deal with.

But once he got Sheppard settled, he could figure out something for himself. Maybe he could publish a paper. Maybe he could find a job. He'd worry more about it later. Sheppard was more important.

He heard his sister's yell from downstairs, but ignored it. Maybe if he ignored it long enough it would go away.

She continued to holler, and when he still didn't answer, he heard her stomping up the stairs. "Meredith!"

Great, just great, he thought as he sat up, groaning as he shifted on the bed. He wasn't surprised when she shoved the door open without knocking.

"You are not sitting up here like a hermit. Come downstairs and eat dinner like a normal person."

"The last I checked, I was an adult and I could make my own decisions as to where and when I ate. I don't need you ordering me around."

"You are not going to sit up here and sulk, and make John sit up here with you."

"I'm not making Sheppard do anything and I don't need to hear your bitching."

"Stop being an arrogant asshole, and get yourself downstairs for dinner."

"Oh," Rodney said, rising to his feet. "Just because I don't kowtow to your every whim I'm an asshole?"

"No, because you can't seem to think about anyone except yourself, that's what makes you an asshole!"

"I tried to help you, but you didn't want my help! At least I didn't let some…English major knock me up before I finished my degree!"

She sneered at him. "Oh, so it's better that dad found you doing it with a twenty-year old when you were seventeen?"

Rodney vaguely saw something shift behind Jeannie, but he ignored it, stepping closer to her and waving his finger at her. "That was none of his business! It wasn't yours either! It was consensual!"

"And it was a guy!"

"So what! I'm bi-sexual for the hundredth time! What are you worried that my bi-sexuality will rub off on Madison? Is that why you don't want me here? I hate to tell you, but most geniuses aren't constrained by sexual stereotypes. Get used to it."

A throat cleared behind them. "Ah, hi."

Rodney's head whipped around and he spotted Sheppard. He knew his anger was getting the best of him, but he didn't care. "You couldn't leave well enough alone, could you? I asked you for food and a beer!"

Sheppard ran a hand through his hair and shrugged. "That was what I was going to get! But I was told we would eat down there. And I told Jeannie if she wanted to invite you down to eat, she'd have to do it, since I wasn't going to order you to come eat down there."

"I didn't say that! You're guests and I refuse to have you sulking in another room when we're all eating downstairs." Jeannie had her arms crossed over her chest as she glared at Sheppard.

Sheppard sighed. "Look, I just want you guys to... find some common ground or something. Rodney, your sister just wants you to accept her life choices and be happy for her. And Jeannie, your brother just wants you to accept him for the person he is, not the person you wish he was."

"I don't care that the English major knocked her up!" No, there was a lot more involved than just the fact that she was a slut and got pregnant.

Sheppard actually waved his hands at them. "Look, why can't the two of you see that you're doing the exact same thing to each other? You're both determined to try and force the other to be what you want them to be, but you hate it when they try to do it to you!"

"We're discussing the situation," Jeannie said, narrowing her eyes, her tone dry.

 

"Good." John suddenly looked exhausted. "I'm hungry, and Madison is downstairs asking what 'asshole' means. I'm going to go have dinner with Caleb. When you two can speak to each other without screaming, you're welcome to join us." He turned and left, closing the door.

"Are you happy now? You made him uncomfortable."

"Me? I'm not the one upstairs in my room sulking!"

"I'm not sulking. I was trying to avoid a confrontation in front of someone I respect, but you've gone and blown that out of the water." He sighed, turning on his heel and walking a few paces away. "Why do you always think the worst of me?"

"Maybe because you always treat me like some kind of second-class citizen! You just assume you know what's best, and you don't care what anyone else thinks."

"I'm a genius, of course I know more than everyone else. I just wanted what was best for you, but you couldn't see past my sexuality and the lies mom and dad told you."

"No, you don't know what's best. You just think you can come in and railroad everyone into doing what you want them to, without any thought to what they want!"

"Again, we go back to the genius thing. I was only trying to help, but you just dismissed everything I said because it came from me. If mom had said the same things, you would have listened to her."

"Maybe because she didn't approach it like she was right, I was wrong, and she was going to bludgeon me to death until I accepted that! She actually—shock!—discussed things with me, and made suggestions, but then let me make my own decisions."

"I didn't stop you when you made your own choices. You made it very clear that you wanted nothing to do with me so I left. So I don't want to hear you complaining that I'm such a horrible brother. You didn't want me to infect your daughter."

"You just walked out! You didn't bother to ask me what I wanted, you never did. You just assume. You think you can run everyone's lives for them, but you can't. You can't run my life the way you want to. I am an adult, and a mother, and I'm just as smart as you are. Just because I make different decisions than what you would make, doesn't make me wrong."

"No, it just makes you stupid."

"Hardly. It makes me not you. Just because my choices are different, doesn't make them wrong. And this is why I can't talk to you! You can't even concede that just because my choices are different, that doesn't make them wrong!"

"The same applies to me, you know. Just because I have no issues sleeping with a guy or a girl doesn't make my choices wrong either."

"And maybe I'd cut you some slack there if you would cut me some everywhere else!"

"You automatically ignore anything I suggest. I don't even know why I try. Oh, yeah," he said, raising a finger. "It's because you wanted me to be more in your life. You wanted this. You wanted a brother."

"I wanted a brother, not a father, not a dictator."

"I am what I am, Jeannie," Rodney said quietly, suddenly exhausted. This had been a bad idea, coming here.

"And I am what I am. I'm happy with my choices, Meredith, whether you are or not."

"Look. We'll leave in the morning. I need tonight to find somewhere for us to stay."

She took a deep breath. "No, you will not. We are going to work this out if it kills us both."

"It's obvious you don't want me here and I don't want to put Sheppard through anything else. He's had enough to deal with. He doesn't need my family drama on top of everything. I shouldn't have asked to come. I should have known better."

"You are not leaving, Meredith. That's the problem. Whenever you encounter something you can't bludgeon to death with your mind, you just run away."

"Well, I'm sorry if I'm not masochistic enough for you. I don't stay where I'm not wanted."

She made an exasperated noise. "So because I won't immediately fall in line with what you want me to do like a good little mindless minion, you're just going to leave. Fine. You know what, fine." She turned and walked away.

Rodney stared at the closed door for a long moment before climbing onto the bed and lying down. What had he been thinking of when he thought this was going to be a good idea? She wanted Rod, not him. Rod was everything she ever wanted in a brother.

He closed his eyes trying not to think about how much that thought hurt. He wasn't good enough. He never was and never would be.

He knew it before, when he was younger, when he'd left them all behind. Maybe he'd thought things would be different now. He thought they'd be able to get along. Family was important. He'd learned that the hard way on Atlantis. But, things really don't ever change. The realization just hurt more now.

****

Over the course of the next several days, if it weren't for Sheppard, Rodney wouldn't have talked to anyone. Jeannie was giving him the silent treatment whenever they were in the same room together—which was rare.

She's managed to take avoidance to an entirely different level.

The sightseeing was good, surprisingly. Sheppard was a good traveling companion. They got along. He knew the times to back off and the times to push. And he always came bearing food or chocolate or coffee when he knew Rodney was in a mood. It was nice to not have to explain himself to someone. It was nice to have someone take him as he was without changing him.

He was surprised that his revelation about his sexual orientation hadn't changed anything. Sheppard treated him the same way he always did. It was like nothing had changed. It was oddly refreshing.

Staring at the ceiling for the third night in a row, Rodney finally gave up and decided to head downstairs to get some milk or something. Maybe that would help him to sleep. Maybe.

He padded quietly downstairs, the stairs creaking as he headed down. He had told her what to do about that stair when he was here last, but did she listen? No. Of course not.

As he rounded the corner into the kitchen, he came to an abrupt stop as soon as he spotted Jeannie. "Sorry," he said. "I didn't realize anyone was up."

She waved a hand at him. "No, fine. I couldn't sleep." She looked at him, then gestured to her cup. "Tea?"

He made a face. "That tree-hugger tea you usually drink that smells like feet? No, thank you. Is there still milk? And not that soy crap, either."

Her expression turned cold. "You have two feet to walk to the fridge and look for yourself."

"Well, you're not exactly skinny and you're blocking the way."

"Oh, like you're one to talk, Mer. My grocery bills have nearly tripled since you've been here."

"I've bought groceries," Rodney said, his tone hardening as he shifted forward a step. "Or do you forget that lovely conversation you were having with Sheppard when I walked in the other day? Did you have to share all my bad traits in one conversation?"

"He should know what he's getting in to, being with you."

"I've worked with him for three years! He's seen me at my best and my worst. Trust me. He doesn't need to hear your version of our childhood and how it's made me into the horrible brother I am today." Rodney didn't care anymore. He was tired and he didn't need this.

"Maybe if you had told him any of it, I wouldn't have to."

Rodney took a step closer. He could feel his pressure rising. "He doesn't need to know that dad hated me, that I was a failure to my family."

Her tone was just as bitter as his. "Dad didn't hate you! You were the Golden Boy, the object of all his affection and love. The ideal standard I was supposed to live up to."

"Yeah, right," he said with a snort of disbelief. "You weren't there when dad was screaming at me the night he walked in on me."

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, so you made one little mistake. Whoop-di-doo. You were still his little genius, his crown jewel of an accomplishment."

"Like hell I was," he said gesturing sharply with his hands. "That's the last time he talked to me. He made sure to tell some of my professors and fellow scientists, too, so when it came time to have my grants renewed all of my funding dried up. I went to work for the government because they were the only ones who dad hadn't bad-mouthed me to. They were the only ones willing to pay me."

To his surprise, her eyes widened and all of the anger bled out. "What?"

He narrowed his eyes at her. "You knew! You had to have known. It wasn't like he kept it secret from anyone. I was his freak son."

She was quiet for a long moment, shaking her head. Rodney heard the soft sound of footsteps on the stairs. It was either Caleb or Sheppard. He was counting on Sheppard. He didn't think Caleb could be that quiet. When she finally did talk, her voice was quiet. "No. I didn't. At home, all he ever talked about was how I needed to work harder, to be a genius like you. You were the standard I was held to, and I never, ever measured up."

"Well, neither did I."

"When you disappeared, he told me you left because you couldn't be around such inferior minds anymore—meaning me—and if I ever wanted to be anything, I had to work harder."

"He wouldn't let me come home," Rodney said, his voice low, bitter, remembering what his father had told him, remembering the words he'd said, remembering what it felt like to be disowned, to be alone. "After that night, I had to work for every single solitary thing I needed or wanted."

Jeannie's voice was hurt, and it surprised him. "I thought you didn't come home because of me."

Rodney shook his head. "Dad made it abundantly clear he didn't want anything to do with me and he didn't want my…ideas to rub off on you. I tried to stay in touch, tried to encourage you to stick with your science because I knew how important his approval was for you. I didn't want you to go through what I did."

Again, she looked shocked. "I never... you never sent anything. I asked about you a few times, and I was told you didn't have time to bother with such a stupid little girl."

Rodney took a deep breath, letting the silence flow between them. A lot had happened to them, to both of them. Their parents knew how to pit them against each other. And honestly, he was tired of fighting with her. "Look. We've both said some things, and we both have a lot of issues to deal with. I still think you shouldn't have gotten yourself knocked up, but we've had that conversation a few times already. This isn't fair to Sheppard. He's here for a vacation and we're here hanging out the family laundry."

She huffed. "Apparently we were both lied to about each other. Dad is probably laughing right now at the two of us."

"I don't know," he said with a shrug. "I think he wanted it this way."

She took a deep breath. "Probably. Maybe."

"Do you still talk to him?" He tilted his head, looking at her.

"Me? Sometimes. Usually around holidays. And then sometimes he calls to tell me he hasn't seen any of my published research yet." She sighed. "He always wants something. You?"

Rodney shook his head. "No. Don't expect to hear from him again either."

She fiddled with her cup. "So, truce for now?"

He took a breath and nodded. "For Sheppard's sake, I think we need to."

After a moment of silence, Jeannie sighed softly. "I think we can do that. And... maybe later, once you've gotten settled somewhere... maybe we can sit down and work all this out. I think I'd like to have my brother back, the one I still remember from when we were young. I guess before Dad decided to play us off each other."

"You know as well as I do that we can never go back to the way things were before. We know too much, have done too much." Rodney sighed. In some ways it was too late, much too late. There was too much water under the bridge, too many hurtful things said on both sides. "Most of what dad said was true. Maybe that's why it hurt so much. And I've been looking for a job since I got back and it's just like it was before. I'm just glad I had a few consulting jobs before I went to Atlantis and I didn't spend the money."

"Maybe we can't go back, but... I think between us we can find a way to move forward. John keeps telling us both, politely of course, that we're being pig-headed and refusing to move past the past." She paused. "And if you'll let me, I might be able to help with the other thing. I have some contacts I occasionally consult for, mostly when Caleb and I can use a little extra cash. If you'd like, I can give you their names, and call ahead as a reference."

He shook his head. "I don't want you to jeopardize your livelihood for me. I'll figure out something."

"It wouldn't be. They always want more time than I'm willing to give them, so by recommending you, I'll be giving them what they really need. And you can bring me on as a consultant occasionally still."

Rodney sighed. That's exactly what he didn't need: one more thing for her to hold over his head. "I'm not going to tell you not to. I need a job."

"I'll call them tomorrow. It can't hurt, right?"

"Who knows. Maybe I'll manage to ruin your reputation in the process. That should just make everything that much better between us." Rodney sighed again and shifted, leaning against the counter. Sheppard had heard enough. It was time to call him in before him and Jeannie started again. "So should we tell Sheppard to come in?"

He could almost hear the guilty start from Sheppard.

"John? He's in bed, isn't he?"

"No," Rodney said, shaking his head. "He followed me down. Probably thought we were going to kill each other."

She walked over and popped her head around the stairs. He heard Sheppard giving his sheepish hello. "How did Meredith know you were here?"

"I have no idea." Sheppard said as he followed Jeannie into the kitchen. He gaze Rodney a look.

"I heard you sneak down the stairs. You're not as quiet as you think. And since you didn't go back up, I figured you were listening," Rodney said returning the look with one of his own.

The other man huffed. His hair was sticking up even more than usual, if that was possible. "I just wanted to make sure you guys would be okay."

Rodney rolled his eyes. "So now you know the dark McKay secrets."

"That your father apparently set you both up to hate each other? That's not really either of your faults, you know."

Rodney shrugged and sighed. How did you even begin to explain his childhood? Jeannie finally answered. "We…we still have a lot of…misunderstandings and miscommunication to work through."

"It will take time, but you've made the first step. And you both look like you could use some sleep now." Sheppard smiled at them.

"I guess," Rodney said too tired to argue anymore.

A warm hand squeezed his shoulder. "It will all work out, buddy. One way or another. After all, I've got your back, so what can really go wrong, right?"

Rodney snorted, but offered a tired smile. "You've like jinxed me for the next seven years, haven't you?"

Sheppard started steering both him and Jeannie toward the bedrooms, his rough chuckle echoing through the kitchen. "Nah. I think when you put the two of us together, bad luck somehow morphs into good. Otherwise, we'd be dead several times over. We stick together, and it will all be okay."

"Yeah, right. We won't mention all of those tribal sacrifices we barely survived."

"But the point is that we survived. I didn't say anything about not getting a bit singed along the way..."

"Hey! I'm still not going to apologize about that. It was your fault that they managed to light your hair on fire. You use way too much styling product than is really necessary for a guy," Rodney said, his foot catching the top of one of the stairs, making him stumble.

Again, Sheppard's hand was there, steadying him as they all trooped up the stairs. "Yeah yeah. I happen to like my hair the way it is, thanks. And anyway, I don't use styling products. It does this on its own, without my input."

"There's no way that can happen," Rodney said as Sheppard pushed him into his room.

"It does. I have occasionally tried products to tame it down, but I gave up a long time ago and accepted the fact that I have perpetual bed-head." Jeannie waved to them as she headed into her own room.

"You do not. It's like a living…thing on your head," Rodney said, gesturing toward Sheppard's head. No matter how many times he looked at his hair, it was always doing something, almost like it was teasing him. "It attracts attention…maybe I should try to grow mine…do that, too. I might get laid then."

He continued to gently push Rodney to the bed. "My head is a mass of cowlicks. Trust me, it's all natural, and doesn't contribute in any way to getting laid. Now go to sleep. I'll see you in the morning."

He continued to gently push Rodney to the bed. "My head is a mass of cowlicks. Trust me, it's all natural, and doesn't contribute in any way to getting laid. Now go to sleep. I'll see you in the morning."

"Isn't it morning already? I should just have coffee and stay up," Rodney said, getting the idea that he could use the time to email some people about Sheppard. It would be good to do this now.

Sheppard pushed him until he was lying on the bed. "Sleep. You'll feel better after a couple of hours."

"But I'm not tired."

"Humor me then. Lay down and close your eyes and rest. You can do math problems in your head if you want."

"But I'm not tired," he said, wondering vaguely why it was dark. Oh. His eyes were closed. He opened them again, looking up at John…at Sheppard above him. Wow. That was…yeah. Wow.

John's—Sheppard's—smile was soft. "Uh huh."

"I'm not." He wasn't pouting. He wasn't. And he needed to stop thinking about Sheppard like that.

The other man's smile stayed soft. "Okay. Just close your eyes for a little while then."

"But why? We can go downstairs and watch TV without having Madison whining about the show. And I bet there's no purple dinosaur dancing on the screen now."

"Because I am tired, and once I get you settled, I'm going back to bed myself." Sheppard yawned widely.

Rodney opened his eyes again, surprised they'd fallen shut again. "So why were you eavesdropping?"

Sheppard shifted a little. "I'm worried about you."

Rodney rolled his eyes, gesturing vaguely with his right hand. "This is nothing. Last time she got physical."

The grin that Rodney had never seen him use with anyone else, the one that said he was teasing, but was still... soft somehow, crossed Sheppard's face. "Close your eyes, McKay. That's an order."

He scowled up at him. "You're not my team leader. I don't have to listen to you."

"Come on. You'll feel better after a couple of hours rest." Sheppard's hands were on him again, pressing him back into the pillows.

"But I'm not tired."

"Then rest your eyes."

"I got up before because I wasn't tired. What makes you think that it's going to work now?" Rodney scowled, realizing he'd left his drink downstairs in the fridge. "I never got my milk, either."

"All right. I'm going to go to bed, myself. I'm having trouble sleeping, but I want to at least try." Sheppard sighed.

"Oh. Okay. You should go to bed, then," Rodney said nodding.

"Yeah. See you tomorrow, McKay." Sheppard waved to him.

"Night," Rodney said, offering a small wave to Sheppard's back as he headed out.

"Night." Sheppard smiled again before he slipped out and shut the door behind him.

Rodney fell asleep shortly after, but woke up early, oddly restless. He pulled out his laptop and hooked into the wireless network, poking around. He had an email from David from late last night. It was short and simple. He liked that.

 

From: Dave [mailto:d.sheppard@sheppardindustries.com]  
Sent: Saturday, May 26, 2007 11:57 PM   
To: M. Rodney McKay [mailto:rodneymckayphdphd@gmail.com]

Subject. Re: Your brother John

Rodney-  
We've discussed it and agreed. Will contact John in the morning.  
-David

Rodney shot off a quick reply of thanks before heading to the job sites, looking to see if anyone needed an out-of-work genius. There wasn't much to be had. A few local community colleges were looking for professors. One small college had a research opening in botany. He was tempted to spork his eyes out, but that would only make job hunting more difficult.

He eventually gave up and headed downstairs to make a pot of coffee. He liked it like this. Nice and quiet.

 

Sheppard wandered in after a while, his laptop in his hands. "Hey, McKay. What else am I qualified to do besides fly planes? I need some inspiration in my job hunt."

Rodney's eyes narrowed as he looked up. "I thought we were going downtown again today."

"We are, but I thought I should at least spend part of the morning job hunting. I just don't know where to start." John fidgeted, leaning against the counter. He looked frustrated.

"Why? You're on vacation. Worry about it in a week." Rodney also knew Sheppard was going to get a job offer in a few hours.

"I'm just... worried. What if I can't find anything?" He looked... lost. Then he ducked his head, hiding his expression.

"You'll find something. Just…" Rodney walked over toward him, trying not to give anything away. The last thing Rodney needed was for Sheppard to find out he was meddling in his life—well, more than usual. "You'll get something, Sheppard. I'm certain of it."

"What if I don't?" John looked up. "I just... I really don't have any idea of even where to start. The airlines don't want me, and that's all I know how to do.

"They don't have openings right now. I saw the email, they're not hiring right now. Maybe in a month they will be."

He shook his head. "Airlines are always hiring pilots. That was the polite way of saying someone has been calling around making sure I can't get in the commercial companies."

"You don't know that and don't start thinking that way." Rodney straightened up, hardening his voice like he did in the labs. "Just, stop it. You'll get a job."

John just nodded, but Rodney could tell he was fighting back panic—he should know, he had been there himself a few times.

"Come on. Let's get out of here." It was still early, but it would be good to get out of here—for both of them.

"Yeah, okay." He watched John get himself together, heading upstairs to ditch the laptop, and coming back down a few minutes later. "So what are we seeing today?"

"Something. Anything. Let's just enjoy our vacation. We both deserve it." Rodney mustered up a smile. "Maybe we can even find you a roller coaster."

****

The next few days were good, but weird. As soon as David had emailed Sheppard with the "come home, all is forgiven", Rodney didn't want him to leave. It was what he worked so hard to do since they'd come back to Earth, but now that it was here he didn't want him to go.

He tried to keep upbeat, to enjoy the time he had with Sheppard—the last few days. But when the morning came to drive Sheppard to the airport and see him get on a plane, his stomach was in knots. Cutting off a limb would be less painful than this.

Sheppard was nervous, which didn't help. He had been sticking even closer to Rodney once they had booked a flight than he had before.

"You know that it's going to be fine, right? More people get killed in traffic accidents every year than in plane crashes," Rodney said as they approached the airport.

"It's not the plane I'm worried about." Sheppard shot him a look. "I fly for a living, I'm not afraid of that."

"Then what's the problem?"

Sheppard was silent for a moment. "What if I get there and we don't have anything in common anymore? What if they really can't or won't accept me back? Do I really want to go back permanently? It's all just very... overwhelming. I'd rather be fighting a Wraith fleet."

"If they didn't want you there they would have never answered your email."

"Maybe. But what if they've changed their minds? Or what if it's just Davy that wants to see me again, and my father is still holding a grudge? There are just so many variables."

Rodney sighed, rolling his eyes as he switched lanes. "If they didn't want you there, they wouldn't have bothered answering you." Maybe if he repeated it enough times Sheppard would believe him.

"I suppose. But still..." Sheppard fidgeted in the seat.

"Still what?" Rodney asked after a few moments of silence. "They're probably ecstatic that you're coming home—unlike my sister."

"I don't know. And you and Jeannie are making progress."

Rodney snorted. "Sure we are."

"Once you both realized your dad had pitted you against each other, it gave you common ground. It won't happen overnight, but you guys are on your way, at least." Sheppard reached over to squeeze his arm.

"The fact that we haven't been in the house except to sleep and shower helped more."

"Just…give it a try, okay? If you're both willing to give a little, you can make progress."

"What do you think I'm doing?" Rodney asked sharply, glancing at Sheppard for a moment. "I'm staying in her house for the foreseeable future."

"Good." Sheppard smiled at him. "And I'm just a call or text away, any time you need me. And you will be coming out to visit once I get settled, right?"

"If I can," Rodney said tightly, heading for the departures area.

"What do you mean?" Some of the panic was back on Sheppard's face.

"I have to get a job. It's not like they're going to let me go gallivanting all over."

"Well, yeah, but you'll have vacation time."

"Eventually."

Sheppard squeezed his arm again. "We'll work it all out. Even if you just come down one weekend, that would work. We'll figure it all out when we get there."

Rodney tried not to shift away, to think about what it felt like to have Sheppard touching him like that, so familiarly. "So…this is it," he said instead as he pulled up to the curb.

Sheppard hesitated. "You're sure this is a good idea? I could just go visit, and then come back and we can find a place together somewhere."

"Sheppard," Rodney said with a sigh. "You need a job. You need to do something with your life. This is a good thing."

"I had a job, and a life, I loved." Sheppard's voice held more bitterness that Rodney had heard him admit to, up to this point. "I love Atlantis, and I loved what we did there. I loved flying. I loved working with you every day and discovering new things."

"I know, but things changed and you have to change. I know you have a backbone. I suggest you straighten up and start using the brain I also know you have. Just because things changed doesn't mean it has to be the end. Just…you'll be fine."

The other man took a deep breath. "I know, and I know I'm whining. I just... I don't want to go, I guess. I'm worried about you, and I'm trying to talk myself into staying until you get settled."

"I'm with my sister, what could go wrong," Rodney said rolling his eyes.

Sheppard reached out, putting a hand on his arm. "Just promise you'll call, and keep in touch. Don't shut me out, just because I'm not here, all right?"

"Yes yes fine," Rodney said as he spotted a cop headed to the car to make him move. "We should go before I get yelled at to move."

"Right. Okay." Sheppard squeezed his arm one last time, then hopped out of the car, his duffel bag in hand. "I'll talk to you when I get there, okay?"

"Of course. I expect to hear from you."

"You will. Drive back safe." He closed the door and stepped away from the car.

Rodney watched him walk away, a piece of him breaking. He didn't want to send him away. He wished Sheppard could stay, but it wouldn't be good for either of them. And besides, Dave promised Sheppard would be okay. It was the best he could go for now.

He had to take a deep breath and pull away before he did something that would embarrass them both.

He headed back to his sister's house, not really paying attention. He was honestly surprised he made it home in one piece because he didn't remember most of the ride.

Of course as soon as he walked in the door, Jeannie was on him. Apparently the place he'd arranged to interview with had cancelled on him.

"They just called and left a message! Why the hell would they do that? Don't they know who you are? The schmucks!"

"I don't know, Jeannie. I didn't cancel. I was ready to meet with them tomorrow," Rodney said, heading into the kitchen for coffee.

She followed him into the kitchen, still going. It was weird to be on this side of the rant. "They're idiots, that's what they are! They just don't know what they're missing! Don't they know what you've done? Schmucks!"

"I don't know what to tell you. I can't just…make things appear."

"They're stupid and they don't deserve someone like you anyway! Screw them! The bastards. We'll find you some place better. We don't need them!"

"What the hell has gotten into you?" Rodney asked as he poured himself a mug of coffee.

"They're bastards who don't know anything. You don't want to work for them anyway. Now." She plunked a journal onto the table. "I've gone through this and circled all the labs looking for people. I excluded the ones that are idiots, since you've been out of the circuit for a bit. You're going to call them all and ask about open spots."

 

"Look. I don't need your help."

"Yes, you do. It's obvious you have no idea how to actually hunt for a job, so I'm going to help you."

He closed his eyes and counted to ten. When he opened them, Jeannie was still standing there, her hands on her hips. Damn. "Look. I'm fine. I'll find something."

"Mer, you are depressed about John leaving, about the whole Atlantis thing, and you have no idea where to start because you haven't actually gone looking for a job, like, ever. I have. And I can do this for you."

"I've sent out my resume. I've made calls. I'm not stupid."

She rolled her eyes. "Did I say that? No, I did not. I said you've never hunted for a job, and I have, and I'm going to help you. Now. Call those places today instead of sitting around moping. I'm going to start cleaning out the basement for you."

"Cleaning out the basement? Why?" he sputtered.

"Because you can't live in a room. We've got a full apartment down there. We thought about renting it out at one point, but decided we didn't like the idea of strangers living in the house. But you're not a stranger. I'll start cleaning it out so you can move stuff down there. We can talk about rent or whatever after you've secured a job somewhere. In the meantime," she took the portable phone off the cradle and put it in his hands. "Call. Now. I expect you to get through at least ten of the labs on that list today."

He stared at her as she headed downstairs, the basement door slowly closing behind her. God. He forgot she was a force of nature.

He did make the calls—along with some others, including one to the nearby university—while he kept an eye on Sheppard's flight. As soon as he knew it was on the ground, he sent a quick text.

 _Glad the plane didn't crash. Try to have fun._

 _They have a tailor waiting for me, and my parents have a party with 30 people planned. What did I get myself in to again? How are you?_

Rodney chuckled and shot off a quick reply.

 _You have a job and people who actually want you there._

John's reply was immediate. _Jeannie wants you there. You guys just have stuff to work through. And you're interviewing tomorrow._

Rodney rolled his eyes and shot off another response. He deleted more than he actually typed. _They cancelled._

 _Why?!_ Trust Sheppard to use multiple punctuation.

He rolled his eyes and navigated to the contact section, hitting Sheppard's mobile number. He wasn't having this conversation via texts.

He didn't waste any time, picking up on barely the second ring. "Why the hell did they cancel the interview?"

So much for 'hello' Rodney though, rolling his eyes. "I don't know. They didn't say and they didn't reschedule. And I can't do the text thing for too long. It hurts my thumbs."

The other man sighed. "Why don't you call the place where Jeannie consults? I know you've been resisting it, but it can't hurt."

"I did already. They'll get back to me when there's an opening."

"You have contacts in labs all over the world. I can't believe none of them want you on full-time. They were begging for you when we were on Atl…" Sheppard stopped in mid-sentence, which told Rodney he wasn't alone. Probably still in the car with whoever the family had sent to get him. "When we were on base."

"That was then, this is now." Rodney sighed, knowing just how true that was. "So, what's it like to be treated like royalty?"

"Hardly." John's voice got brighter. "You should come out here. I'll teach you how to ride."

Rodney chuckled. Wouldn't be amusing to see Sheppard's face when he found out Rodney could actually ride a horse. "Sure. I'll probably fall off the horse and break something valuable, like my brain."

"I wouldn't let that happen and you know it. Want me to ask around tonight when, if I know my father, there will be some big names attending? Odds are good at least some of them will be in the science field. Or hell, you should just start your own lab."

The front door slammed and there was the sound of running feet. Great. Just great. "No, don't worry about it. Just enjoy yourself and settle in. I hear the brat coming so I better get off the phone."

Sheppard was getting on a role. "You should. The more I think about it, the better I think the idea is. Fuck all the people who can't see how brilliant you are. Start your own lab and blow them all away."

Seconds later he was attacked by a flying ankle biter. "No! Get off me you little monkey! Gotta go."

He didn't even give John a chance to respond, just hung up as Madison hung on him. "Hi, Uncle Mer! Guess where we went? The mall! And I got a Build a Bear! Wanna see?"

"Build a what?"

"Build a Bear! You go in, and you pick out your bear, and you get to stuff it, and give it a heart, and then dress it up! See! I made a scientist bear. I named her Meredith! Like you!"

"My name is Rodney and I'm not a girl."

She rolled her eyes. "Well duh. But your name is Meredith Rodney, and mommy calls you Mer, so I will too! You can be Mer, and my bear is Meredith! Wanna see my bear Uncle Mer?" She didn't wait for an answer, dragging him over to an elaborately cute-print box, from which she pulled out... a stuffed animal in a lab coat. "This is Meredith. Say hi!"

"I'm not talking to a stuffed animal. And my name is Rodney. You should call me Uncle Rodney, not what your mother calls me."

She rolled her eyes, looking scarily like her mother. "Meredith Bear says hi. I'm going to go show mommy! Uncle Mer." She laughed and ran off.

He put his hand over his face, groaning. This was torture. Complete and utter torture.

Of course, before he could slink off, Jeannie found him. "Oh good, you're done with your calls. Come help in the basement. It's a bit more of a mess than I thought it would be, and if you want to move down there any time soon, we'll need to get cracking."

"Cracking? What if I don't want to move down there? Don't I have say in this?" he asked, but climbed to his feet, shoving his cell phone in his pocket.

"No, you don't." She waved a hand as she headed back into the basement.

"What do you mean, I don't? It's my life."

She waved her hand again, and pointed to a stack of boxes. "I've been through those, and they're all trash. You can start by taking them all down to the curb."

"Down to the curb?"

"Yes, so the trash men can pick them up tomorrow. When you're done with that, you can help me start cleaning."

"Shouldn't you wait for a rainy day or something to clean house?" Rodney asked, opening one of the boxes and poking inside. Everything was filthy and dusty.

"No. Stop stalling."

"I'm not stalling. I'm having a conversation with you as to when is the optimum time to do house cleaning like this. Or do you prefer gardening in the rain?"

"It's not going to rain tomorrow either, and thank you for volunteering to help with that, too. I appreciate it. We'll go to the farm stand later to pick up the plants I need."

Rodney turned and looked at her, blinking. "What?" he asked, his pocket vibrating a few seconds later. He pulled out his phone and brought up the text from Sheppard.

 _Feels like I've stepped back in time._

He chuckled, rolling his eyes. Apparently, he'd make it back to the house without incident.

"Here's another box that needs to go out, Mer." Jeannie added another to the pile.

"I…what?" he asked, looking up from his phone.

"Boxes. Take them down to the curb for the trash."

"I'm not your pack mule and I need to answer this text from Sheppard," he said, but Jeannie snatched the phone out of his hand.

"You can have this back when we're done. Right now, we're cleaning so you have a place to actually live."

"Hey! Give me that back."

"I will. Later." She turned and started cleaning again.

He muttered something derogatory under his breath and lugged the first of four boxes up the stairs and out to the curb. He could feel his back muscles protesting. He was going to be a cripple by the time he was done. Just what this world needed—another crippled genius.

Jeannie didn't let up. After he hauled boxes, she decided to hold him to the garden comment, apparently deciding that had been an offer. They piled into the car with the brat and headed to a 'farm stand'.

Jeannie spent hours wandering around, looking at everything. Rodney was forced to follow behind her with the barely working flatbed cart. He was the official pack mule for his sister. If he believed in God or karma, apparently this was some kind of punishment for something he'd done.

Finally, she decided they had everything she wanted. They loaded the car back up and headed back to the house, where Rodney had to help unload the car, then stand around and move plants for her while she decided where they would all be planted the following day—which he was also apparently helping with.

And through it all, she ordered him around, berated him, and refused to listen to anything he said.

It was humiliating, degrading, and he still couldn't figure out a way to stop her from doing it. Sheppard called in the middle of the afternoon sometime—after Jeannie had wandered off somewhere in the house, leaving him alone for ten minutes. At least Sheppard had good timing.

"I've been playing dress-up all day. How about you?"

Rodney snorted. At least he was clean, in comfortable air conditioning, and probably well-fed. "Well, I was forced to drive to the farmer's market and spend hours wandering around a vermin-infested roadside hut."

"You weren't a living doll. And every piece was a suit, or preppy. Oh, and a tuxedo. Apparently, I have to have one in my closet ready to go on a moment's notice. Why did I think this was a good idea?"

"They're giving you a job and you have an entire wing of a mansion. I think I'm moving into my sister's basement."

"Come live here. I have the room. And Henry can outfit you with a tuxedo."

Rodney picked at the edge of the pillow. Sheppard's suggestion was way too tempting, but he wasn't about ready to mooch off his friend. It was bad enough he had to live with his sister. "I have one in storage. It's from the 80s when I thought I was going to be the youngest person to win a Nobel."

"It probably needs updating. Henry was pretty firm about what is and isn't appropriate. I'm wandering around the halls now trying to remember how the hell to get to the East Wing."

Sheppard suddenly squeaked. "Holy shit! Don't sneak up on me like that! And, um, thanks." He paused for a moment, obviously talking to someone else. "Thanks."

A moment later, some of the defeat was back in his voice. "Holy fuck. I don't know if this was a good idea, McKay. I might just fit in here worse now than I did when I was a teenager."

"You'll be fine," Rodney said quietly, his eyes focused on the family portrait across the room. Jeannie, Madison, and Caleb, all smiling and happy while he was alone and miserable—and had a man-crush on his very straight co-worker and friend. "You know how to act appropriately in social situations."

Sheppard sighed. "I feel really out of place. God, I miss Atlantis."

"You'll get used to it." They had to. They really didn't have a choice in the matter.

"Maybe." He heard Sheppard opening and closing doors. "You have to come out here and help me figure out what all these rooms are for. Maybe we could turn one into a game room."

A game room. Yeah. He and Sheppard came from different worlds. Very different worlds. Rodney was happy if he'd get two minutes of peace and quiet a day. "I'm sure you can figure it all out. It's not like it's rocket science or anything."

"No, I'll leave that to you." A few more doors opened while they talked. "Okay, this is going to need to be redecorated if I'm going to live here. It needs less... foofiness."

"I'm sure you'll get used to it." McKay said, tilting his head to the side as he caught sight of Jeannie walking back inside. Great. The pack mule would have to work again "Look. I have to go. Jeannie's headed my way with what looks like a full head of steam."

"Give me a call later and let me know how it goes. I think I'll go out to the stables. They bred my old horse, so I want to check it out."

"Have fun," Rodney said, clicking the phone off as soon as Jeannie was huffing and puffing over him like a demented dog. He told her as much.

She just rolled her eyes, something he was getting used to. "I'm going to start dinner. And you, since you've shown such an interest in Maddie's education, are going to help her with her homework."

"You need to stop ordering me around. I'm not your daughter or your husband."

"No, you're my brother who is staying here and needs to help out a bit if he's going to be part of this family."

"What do you think I spent all day doing? Macramé?"

She waved her hand. "You're the one going on and on about how we need to give Maddie more in the way of education. I'm giving you the chance to help her with her homework. If you don't want to, you forfeit all rights to make any comments about her future."

"Fine," he said with a growl, climbing to his feet. "I still think she needs to learn how to play piano."

"If you ask her and she says yes, sure, but I won't force it on her."

"Fine." He stomped into the kitchen where Madison had a stack of dittos and a box of crayons in front of her. He dropped into the chair. "So. What do you need help with?"  
She waved her hand in a direct imitation of her mother. "Today we have to draw a picture of what we want to be when we get older, and I have some math problems, and I have to read a chapter of the book our class is reading."

"Okay. And? What are you waiting for?"

"Where do you want to start?"

"It's your homework. I'm just here if you have problems."

"Okay!" She grabbed her crayons and started to draw.

He watched her for a few minutes before his attention began wandering. He really wanted to work on some of his projects, but it was all classified and that wasn't something he could do at the kitchen table. The last he needed was Madison or his sister asking stupid questions.

"How does this look Uncle Mer?" Madison held up a picture.

"Ahh…" He looked at it for a long minute. "It's Uncle Rodney to you and what is that neon pink thing that's burning my eyeballs?"

"That's my tutu. I'm going to be a dancer!"

"No, you're not. You're going to be a scientist like your uncle and your mother—before she got herself knocked up. Draw something else that's actually realistic."

She pouted at him. "Mom says I can be anything I want when I grow up, and I want to be a dancer!"

"Your mom lives in an imaginary world where everyone gets what they want. I live in reality. You're going to be a scientist."

"I don't want to be a scientist! I want to be a dancer!"

"You're going to be a scientist. You are not wasting your genes on some frivolous activity that will be over as soon as you're twenty when you get bad knees."

Her bottom lip began to tremble, then she started crying.

"Oh stop it with the waterworks," he said, rolling his eyes. "You'll get nowhere in life by crying."

That just made her sob harder. Jeannie came running in. "Meredith, what did you do?"

"Nothing. She just started bawling."

"Uncle.. Uncle Mer says... says I can't be a dancer when I grow up!" Madison wailed again.

"Meredith!" Jeannie glowered at him before turning back to the brat. "Sweetheart, you can be anything you want when you grow up. Why don't you go upstairs and finish your homework up there?"

Rodney scowled as Madison gathered up her papers. "And it's Uncle Rodney to you!" he yelled at her back as she ran out of the kitchen. He looked at Jeannie who was frowning at him. "What? She won't get anywhere in life if she cries at everything."

"She is a child, Meredith. What she wants to be when she grows up will probably change five times a year. Instead of telling her all dreams are stupid, maybe you could try encouraging her."

"You're even more stupid than I thought you were if you think I'm going to play along with your fantasies. She's going to be a scientist. You have no right to waste the McKay genes on dancing!"

"She can dance if she wants to! Not you, not anyone, will tell her she can't do what she wants to do!"

"And she'll ruin her knees and be a cripple for the rest of her life. A has been dancer. Yeah. Where's the life in that?" he asked, rolling his eyes.

Jeannie got right up in his face. "It is her life. Not yours, not mine, not anyone else. It belongs to her, to do with as she wants. I will not allow her to be forced into a life she doesn't want."

"Right. And you're going to support her when she can't walk to the bathroom because she ruined her knees and needs replacement surgery in her twenties? Good choice there."

Jeannie actually growled at him. "She can do whatever she wants, and I will support her, and so will you, do you understand. You can pick at me, you can pick at my choices, but my daughter is off-limits."

"So you're going to let her ruin her life instead?"

"I'm going to let her do whatever she wants with her life. Even when I don't agree with her choices, they are hers. Period. Her mistakes to make, her career to build, her awards to win, whatever. They will be hers."

Rodney rolled his eyes as he rose to his feet. "Fine. Let her ruin her life. You're not her best friend. You're her parent. You need to start acting like one."

"And part of being a parent is allowing your children to make their own decisions and learn from them, not keep them in a little bubble."

"Whatever. Am I done with homework duty?"

She gave him a disgusted look. "Yes. Just... get away from me right now."

"I have no problem with that," he said, stomping upstairs to the bedroom she'd given him. He ended up checking email and working on a few things for Sheppard until Jeannie called him down for dinner. And that was another thrilling experience in the Miller house.

Madison glared at him the whole time, apparently deciding he was the enemy of dance. Jeannie was still pissed at him for making the brat cry, and the English Major seemed determined to ignore them all tonight.

Rodney considered leaving, but with nowhere to go it was kind of pointless.

Fortunately, Jeannie didn't seem inclined to keep him downstairs tonight, and he was allowed to escape back to his room after the dishes were all done.

Rodney ended up falling asleep early, which also meant that he was up at the hairy ass-crack of dawn. At least he had his computer so, after going though his inbox, he kicked off a quick email to Sheppard.

****

From: M. Rodney McKay [mailto:rodneymckayphdphd@gmail.com]  
Sent: Monday, June 4, 2007 06:19 AM   
To: John [mailto:CowboyFlyboy@gmail.com]

Subject: Still alive?

Did you survive the first day back home? You wouldn't believe what Jeannie made me do as soon as you left. Work, work, work. Vacation is officially over for me. Do you even see what time it is? AND I've been awake for an hour already. This is ridiculous.

I think she plans to have me help her tear out part of the weeds and crap in the garden. I'm a scientist, not a gardener! I'm going to tear my nails down to the quick and it will get infected and then I'll have to go to the hospital…

Anyway. Hope everything is going well. Try to blend in.  
-MRM

****

After, he headed downstairs with his laptop. He ended up at the kitchen table next to the coffee pot as he surfed the net, reading some of the latest papers to come out of academia.

Pathetic. He could have written them when he was twelve.

His email dinged.

****

From: John [mailto:CowboyFlyboy@gmail.com]   
Sent: Monday, June 4, 2007 08:45 AM   
To: M. Rodney McKay [mailto:rodneymckayphdphd@gmail.com]

Subject: RE: Still alive?

It wasn't too bad. My father is as domineering as I remember, but my Mom is looking really good. He just looks old, which is kind of sad. Dave's wife is a real gem, and I'm looking forward to getting to know her more.

I just got back from my jog—used the bridle paths for the horses, which worked just fine—and got a shower. I'm heading downstairs to meet my mother for breakfast and catching up, which will be nice. Later today, I hope to know what, exactly, they want me to do. I'll keep you posted.

-John

PS: Your nails aren't going to get infected. Go help your sister in her garden.

****

Rodney rolled his eyes and snorted.

He got to his feet to pour himself his third mug of coffee. Jeannie had been in and out of the kitchen along with Madison, but they were playing the avoidance game today. They'd want him later when he had to be a pack mule and do physical labor. God forbid they'd actually listen to his advice.

 

****

From: M. Rodney McKay [mailto:rodneymckayphdphd@gmail.com]  
Sent: Monday, June 4, 2007 09:01 AM   
To: John [mailto:CowboyFlyboy@gmail.com]

Subject: RE: Still alive?

Did you really expect him to change? I mean, come on. He was old when you left and set in his ways. But he has a HUGE account balance and he wants his sons working for him. Enjoy it.

And jogging? Why would you keep up with that if people aren't chasing you? You really are deranged.  
-MRM

PS: I don't think there's enough coffee or alcohol to help offset the agony of pulled muscles and ripped nails. Staying inside with the brat seems like a better option.

****

John didn't immediately get back to him, but Jeannie came down after she had done whatever she was going to do for the day with the brat. "Outside. Now. You're going to plant those flowers we bought yesterday. Just dig a hole and put them where I have them laid out. Even someone like you should be able to figure that out."

"I need to shower and change."

"If you want to do that before you get dirty, be my guest. But you had better not stall." She turned on her heel and marched away.

"Great, just great," he muttered, putting his mug in the dishwasher before heading upstairs. He decided not to shower and climbed into some old jeans and a shirt. He caught sight of himself in the mirror and groaned. He was red. Sunburned. Great. He was going to get skin cancer now.

He didn't see Jeannie as he headed back downstairs, but found a bottle of sunscreen, a hat, and a hand shovel sitting by the door.

He slathered up his skin and headed outside, squinting his eyes against the glare. "What do you want me to do?"

"Move the plant to the side. Dig a hole where it was sitting. Take the plant out of the plastic and stick it in the hole. Cover up the hole." Jeannie rolled her eyes. "For a genius, don't be stupid."

"You want me to do all of these?"

"Yes."

"It's going to take me all day."

"And?"

"I have other things to do."

"Such as?" She raised an eyebrow.

He folded his arms over his chest. "You've been harping at me to get a job. I have emails to write, phone calls to make. I should probably call a contractor to see about the basement."

"All of which can be done this afternoon. No one else will be in their offices yet."

"It's after ten. Of course they're in their offices."

"Just dig, Mer. The longer you stand here and argue with me about it, the longer it will take you."

"Just dig, Mer," he muttered under his breath as he grabbed the shovel. He paused a few minutes later. "Look. Let me call the contractors before it gets too late. It'll take ten minutes."

She gave a put-upon sigh, and glared at him. "Fine, but you had better be back here in 10 minutes. No more stalling!"

"I'm not stalling. I'm actually trying to help you, but you're not making it very easy you know."

"Ditto."

There were three numbers in her phone book—her preferred vendors. He rolled his eyes and made the calls. Only one of them was in the office. He made arrangements to have someone come out to the house to look things over and suggest a plan and layout for the space. He seemed professional, but it was a crap shoot in his opinion.

He headed back outside and started working. He dug and planted and weeded and watered. Jeannie vanished at some point, leaving him outside alone to work.

When his phone began to ring, he was sure it was her devising some new torture for him.

He picked it up and answered it without looking. "What? I'm already working my fingers to the bone in your backyard. What do you want now?"

A familiar and amused voice thrilled over him. "My father has gardeners who take care of the yard, although if you ever want to come help, I'm sure he wouldn't mind."

"What?" Rodney squeaked and nearly dropped the phone as he jumped. He managed to catch it and put it back to his ear a few seconds later. "Sheppard. I thought you were working."

He could hear the other man's amusement. "I'm heading to lunch and figured I would see how you were doing."

Rodney scowled. "Working my fingers to the bone, no thanks you to."

"What did I do?"

Rodney huffed, moving to the nearest tree to get out of the sun. "You were the one who told me to help her. You should see the scrapes and bruises. Not to mention the pulled muscles."

"It's good for you to get out and get some fresh air and a little exercise. You'll sleep better. Any luck on the job hunt?"

"You should see the sunburn I got yesterday," he said as he stretched, groaning as his muscles pulled. He was going to be very sore. "I might be relegated to doing yard work for the rest of my life. I actually have contractors coming to the house tomorrow to see about Jeannie's basement."

"That bad, huh? What about teaching? I know it's not your first love, but maybe you could do it for a while, then move back into lab work?"

"I'm still exploring my options," he said, trying to keep the tone light.

"I'm telling you. Put together a proposal and send it to me. Maybe I can get Sheppard Industries to fund your own lab. Then you can do whatever you want."

Rodney ground his teeth together. "I don't want your money."

"It's not my money. It's an investment firm that looks for good ideas and opportunities for profit. I know damn well whatever you come up with will be fucking amazing, which means it will be profitable for the company."

Rodney rolled his eyes. "Okay. Apparently you're now hard of hearing. I. Don't. Want. Your. Money."

The other man sighed, but dropped it. "Fine. It was just an idea. So what else is new? How's Madison?"

"Nothing and fine. She has her parents wrapped around her finger."

"That's what little girls are supposed to do. Is she ready for her recital this week?" He had forgotten John had been encouraging the dance thing too.

"I suppose so," he said with a shrug. "She's been stomping around and saying she was dancing."

"Make sure you stop and get her a pink flower, to give her after the performance. It doesn't matter how bad it is, you have to go and tell her she was amazing."

"Yes yes. I've already gotten the riot act read to me and there are flowers on order with the florist in town. I'll be sneezing for the next week."

"Good." Sheppard's laugh flowed over him. "I won't pretend it will be an enjoyable experience, just don't make any of your real observations out loud, lie through your teeth about how fantastic it was, and by the next day it will all be forgotten."

"Sure it will be." Rodney said and paused, needing to change the subject. "So, how are things going by you?"

"Good and bad. Had a call this morning going over everything I'll be doing for the company. I was surprised they gave me management of the stables completely, and right now I'm going over the last year's worth of investments. But when I called my father to let him know what I had found—a few companies we needed to get out of now—his first words to me were that he wasn't surprised I was calling to give up already."

"He's an old coot with a chip on his shoulder. He'll get over it." He knew far too many people just like Sheppard's father. If he was having issues with one old man, Sheppard wasn't cut out for academia. Talk about a cut-throat industry.

"I guess. I've decided to think of him as a commanding officer. I don't have to like him, I just have to do what he says, and say 'Yes, sir' a lot."

Rodney snorted. "I guess. How'd the party go last night?"

"It was... odd. Seeing my parents for the first time after almost twenty years was just weird. It was almost as if my father was looking for a reason not to have to talk to me directly. Even now, he's really only saying the absolute minimum, then hanging up."

"Is that new for him? The not talking thing." Sheppard wasn't the most forthcoming person either—at least not professionally. He tended to say more to Rodney than anyone else—not that he'd been keeping track.

The other man sighed. "I don't know. He was always curt with us growing up if we didn't live up to expectations, and I'm the black sheep, so I guess it's not surprising. I'd guess right now, he probably feels something close to hate for me, but figures he'll use me while he can."

Rodney shrugged, scratching an itch on his arm. "Wait and see. You haven't really settled in yet."

"Maybe. I've been stationed places and given duties I didn't much like before. I'll survive this, too."

"You'll be fine."

"I know. So will you, you know."

"We'll see. I'm not panicking yet." At least not too badly, he thought, not wanting to admit it out loud that staying here and living like this was scaring the shit out of him.

"Good." Sheppard's tone was the warm, soft one that Rodney had to work at not thinking about directly while taking care of certain biological needs. "So when are you going to come visit me here?"

"Maybe when you've been there longer than two days," Rodney grumbled into the phone.

"Hang on a sec, McKay. Yes?" It sounded like someone had walked into the room. Rodney could hear a voice, although not what was being said. "I completely forgot about that. Hey, McKay, I'm going to get a new car. I'll take some pictures with my phone and send them to you."  
Rodney snorted and rolled his eyes. Just what Sheppard needed—and another reminder that Rodney lived in a totally different world than Sheppard and his family. "Let me guess. It'll be red and look like you're trying to compensate for something. Have fun."

He was left with the echo of John's laughter as they hung up.

Rodney locked his phone and shoved it into his pocket, as he shook his head. It would probably be red and obnoxious. Just what he needed, an excuse to go fast and an easy way to pick up hot girls.

His stomach growled, reminding him that he couldn't just forget to eat something.

With a sigh, he headed into the house, immediately getting yelled at for tracking dirt inside.

"Take off your shoes!"

"I need to get something to eat before my sugar crashes."

She blinked, then gestured to his feet. When he reluctantly kicked them off, she put a plate in front of him with a sandwich and some cut fruit on it.

"Thank you," he grumbled, but dug in. He didn't want to know what it was. Some vegan deli meat, he was certain.

She made herself a similar plate, and sat down across from them, eating in silence for a while. Surprisingly, it was Jeannie who broke it. "I... Look, I know I can be a hard person to live with. Caleb was on me last night for how I handled the whole thing. He said I shouldn't have foisted homework off on you if I didn't expect you to give your opinions. I don't agree with you when it comes to Madison, but if you'll lay off questioning everything I do with her, I'll try to lay off jumping down your throat at every turn about when you do talk to her. Deal?"

Rodney sniffed. "I wasn't wrong."

She huffed. "And neither am I. Raising a child isn't science, Mer. There isn't one right way to do it. But you have to respect my decisions about how I choose to go about it."

"Well, it should be—if the scientists I got on Atlantis were any indication."

She rolled her eyes. "Look, I'm trying here. I am. I want to build a relationship with you. But you've got to be willing to give some too, you know. You can't just come in and expect everyone to ask how high just because you say jump. We're not your employees, we're your family. I'm not asking you to agree with me, all I'm asking is that you respect that I have my own damn opinions."

"I never said you didn't. Most of them are wrong, but…" He shrugged. "Fine. Whatever you want."

"Good. If we can agree to disagree on some things—like how I raise my daughter—then maybe there's hope for us yet."

Rodney held his tongue. There was always something else to say but the little John Sheppard sitting on his shoulder gave him "the look". He nodded instead, concentrating on his sandwich.

She let the kitchen lapse back into silence, and for once, it didn't feel strained.

Progress. Maybe.

He headed back outside when he finished his lunch—the dishes going into the dishwasher. He ended up working outside for the rest of the afternoon, planting everything Jeannie had purchased the day before.

He'd gotten a text from Sheppard with a picture of the car at some point. He just rolled his eyes and shot back a quick message.

 _Typical. Did you get a penis extension, too?_

He continued working, feeling his pocket vibrate a few seconds later. Sheppard could wait a few minutes. He finished the last plant minutes later and wiped his hand on his pants before pulling out his phone.

 _You're just jealous. She's fucking beautiful._

Rodney rolled his eyes. _Ha! You're overcompensating._

 _Who needs a big penis when you've got a car like this? I'll take it over sex any day._

Rodney shook his head when he got Sheppard's reply. He snorted. Like he hasn't had any sex. Rodney knew for a fact that Sheppard had left a long line of jilted lovers all through Pegasus.

 _Least you've had sex in the last decade._

He waited, but there was no more immediate response. He was willing to bet John was already driving his sex machine. Recklessly.

He headed back inside, toeing off his shoes before Jeannie could yell at him. He headed upstairs to wash off all the sweat and grime before dinner was served.

It was another vegan meal, and he was beginning to wonder about himself, that he was starting to enjoy them. That meant it was time to go get a steak soon to remind himself why he liked meat.

Although, it was food and he didn't have to cook it. And Jeannie supposedly knew about his allergies. She should remember the hospital trips. She usually cried through the whole experience—even though he was the one who couldn't breathe.

After dinner, he was roped into sitting in the living room to watch a family-friendly movie, which just made him think of Sheppard the whole time.

He used to love team movie nights. As much as he protested about the time away from the labs, it was really great to sit and watch movies with his team, his friends. He'd never been accepted like that before.

When the movie was over, he realized he still hadn't heard from Sheppard, and it was getting late. If the bastard had gone and gotten himself killed in a car accident, Rodney was going to find a way to bring him back so he could murder him.

When he wandered upstairs, he dialed Sheppard's number but it went to voicemail. He sighed and waited for the beep so he could leave a message.

"Sheppard. It's McKay. What are you doing? It's ten at night. Don't tell me you're still driving that…thing. Anyway…call me if you want. You don't have to."

He snapped his phone shut and headed into the bathroom, getting ready for bed. He wandered downstairs to grab some pain medication because his back was killing him.

To his surprise, as he was going back to his room, his phone buzzed. When he picked up, the familiar, sheepish drawl greeted him. "Hey."

"Oh, hey," Rodney said quietly, sitting on the edge of the bed. He pulled his socks off. "I see you're still alive."

"Yeah, I was talking to my brother's wife when you called before. Sorry. What's up? And this car is fucking incredible. I can't wait to show you."

Rodney felt his eyebrow rise. "Your brother's wife? Is she pretty?"

"I guess. She's a society girl, and what I imagine my father wanted me to marry. She's a lot like Nancy was. I hear her and Nancy are friends, actually, which is weird."

"Why?" Rodney asked, managing to shimmy out of his pants without dropping the phone.

There was a pause. "Nancy is my ex-wife."

Rodney pulled the phone away from his ear, looked at it for a long moment to check that he was talking to Sheppard, and then put it back. "You have an ex-wife?"

Sheppard almost fell over himself verbally trying to explain. "It didn't last long, and was a horrible mistake on my part. I knew I didn't love her, but it was my one attempt to at least consider trying to make amends with my family. I was young and stupid."

"Huh. You were married," Rodney said quietly. He slid under the blankets and leaned back against the pillows.

"For about six months, of which I was probably home a grand total of two weeks. It ended when she accused me of loving flying more than her, and I said yes, and I always would. She left and I got divorce papers a few weeks later on the base where I was stationed."

Rodney held back a snort of amusement. "Huh. Let me guess, she's a lawyer now."

"I think someone mentioned she works for the government, but I don't know in what capacity. Apparently she's re-married too. She was a good girl, so I'm glad she's found someone. I've just never met a woman interesting enough to hold my attention. Hell, I think at this point, our friendship the longest relationship I've ever had with anyone, McKay."

"Oh really?" Rodney managed to ask without choking on the words.

"Yeah. You're just too damn interesting for your own good."

"Well, then be glad you're not my type," Rodney managed to get out, sounding a little strained to his hear. "Who knows what would have happened then."

"Awww, I'm crushed. And here I was hoping for a mad love affair."

Rodney sputtered into the phone, making Sheppard laugh hard. It wasn't funny. It wasn't funny at all, but Rodney was not going to explain that to Sheppard. He was not having that conversation. Ever.

"Anyway, it's been a long day for me, so I'll talk to you tomorrow, okay? Don't stay up too late."

"I was in bed staring at the ceiling trying to ignore the pain in my entire body. I swear even my toe nails hurt." He put the right amount of whining into his tone. He knew how to deflect. He was good at it.

John fell for it, immediately falling into his protective mode. "Take a hot shower and some ibuprofen." Then he broke out that damn soft voice again. "Sleep well, okay, buddy?"

"Yeah, right," Rodney grumbled. "Night."

"Night."

****

Rodney had his first interview with the University of Toronto a few days later. It was for a research position in their "The Structure of the Universe" area in their science department. It was actually something that looked halfway decent. He'd have to move to Toronto because he wasn't making the commute from Jeannie's every day.

But that was a little bit of "cart before the horse" thing.

He continued to send out resumes and make calls, though. He didn't want to get overconfident.

He was meeting with Doctor Anthony Smithson, a single PhD physicist and head of the department. Rodney could probably run circles around him blindfolded, but as Jeannie had told him "he had to play nice".

When he arrived, a grad student brought him up to Smithson's office, where he was forced to wait while the guy finished talking to students.

He had his one and only suit and sat watching the students come and go. His right leg bounced nervously. He needed this job. He just hoped Smithson wasn't as stupid as his papers said he was. Rodney had done some reading last night. It wasn't pretty.

Finally, a man that epitomized the pop culture version of a geek poked his head out. "Doctor McKay?"

"Yes, that's me," he said, rising to his feet. "Doctor Smithson?"

"Yes. Sorry about the wait. Today are office hours. Come on in."

"I can see that from the parade of people in and out of here. Are the students really that remedial that they require that much hand-holding?" he asked as he stepped in to the office. It was pretty typical—lots of science journals and books on a book shelf and a paper-covered desk.

Smithson shrugged. "It's part of the job. And helping students is very rewarding, don't you think?"

"It all depends on the student and how stupid they are."

Smithson looked shocked. "But that's why we're here, to help them expand their minds!"

Rodney looked at him for a long moment. "I'm here for the research job."

"Yes, but still. Even with research, we're part of the faculty. You'd be expected to take on assistants and be the adviser for several students. The only difference is that you wouldn't be teaching any classes."

"That's fine. I can do that."

Smithson looked at him, then glanced down at his notes. "So. You don't have anything published?"

"Recently, no," he said shifting in his chair. "I've been working on classified projects for the US government for most of the past decade."

"Right. It says that." He shifted around in his seat. "So you don't have anything not classified? That makes it really hard to justify bringing you on for pure research. Those spots usually only go to people with established track records."

"I was the chief science officer at the facility where I was based. I supervised nearly forty scientists in a variety of disciplines in addition to my own research work on vacuum energy and wormhole physics. I'm sure that is enough to give me a position at your University."

"Well, see the problem is that... well, you can't prove it. And, ah, that's a problem."

"I have the skills required. More than required. I'm probably overqualified for the position. And I have one more PhD than you do."

"Yes. Well. But you have nothing solid to show that. And the college is very picky about only having credentialed people on board. Can't you get anything from where you worked before?"

"You can ask my supervisor, General Landry, but I'm not sure how forthcoming he would be especially since it was a classified project. I have top secret government clearance. That should be enough to get me a research job."

"I called the numbers you provided, but, ah, they said you no longer had clearance, and wouldn't verify why you left, or anything other than you had worked there for a while. I couldn't even get any verification on what projects you worked on."

"Classified."

"Yes. Well..."

"I can fix your latest paper if that will help to convince you."

"No. It's not... I'll see what I can do. I'm not sure the Board will accept classified as a reason not to have any published work."

"It is a viable reason," Rodney said tightly.

"Yes, but it doesn't give us a place to start. You don't have any reputation."

"I have a sterling reputation."

"Um. Okay."

"What do you want me to tell you? The work I've been doing is classified, but it's high level research."

"Okay." Smithson looked uncomfortable. "I'll run it by the Board and get back to you, okay?"

"Yes, great, that's great," Rodney said standing. "So I can start next week."

"I'll... be in touch."

"So, do I get to see my office before I leave?"

Smithson rubbed at the back of his neck. "Ah. Well. The problem is that I don't think the Board is going to approve your application."

"Why not? I'm more than qualified." Rodney narrowed his eyes. "Is it you? You don't want the competition."

"No! No, I mean, I think you're, um, qualified. But without any papers, well, we've never hired anyone without a certain amount of published work, and an already-established reputation. Without either of those, unfortunately we just have your word to go on."

"You have everything I published before I started working on classified projects."

"Yes, but those were all decades ago. Without anything current, and no recommendations from the labs you worked for, we have nothing."

"And yet they're more advanced that what you put out last month."

"But they're old."

"And yet," he said tightly, "better than what you put out a month ago."

Smithson shrugged. "I'll talk to the Board, and let you know. I just, you know, wanted you to understand."

"Fine," Rodney said through his clenched teeth. "Did you need to know anything else?"

"No. No. I'll be in, you know, touch."

Rodney nodded and reached out to shake Smithson's hand. He was proud that he remembered the niceties Jennie had drilled into his head last night.

Another student was recruited to lead him back out to the door.

He eventually found his way back to Jeannie's car. They purposely made confusing signs to make sure any visitors would be lost on campus. He pulled out his phone as soon as he was sitting down, dialing Sheppard.

"Hey, Rodney."

"They don't think I'm qualified."

"What? You're more than qualified!"

"That's what I said!" he said as he pulled out of the parking lot. "Apparently since I haven't published in the past decade and Landry won't tell them anything except that I worked for him, they can't verify my qualifications."

"What a bastard! I knew he was pissed at you, but what would it cost him just to verify that you held a high-level position doing classified work?"

"I wish I knew. Apparently he hates me more than I already knew." Rodney sighed. "So yeah. The board will get back to me. I'm thinking my chances are slim to none."

"Damn it! Why is Landry doing that? He has to know that sabotaging you isn't exactly going to endear you to him and make you come running back."

"Although if I'm blacklisted from any halfway decent college or research company, I might not have a choice," he said bitterly as he slowly navigated through the college campus looking for the exit.

"Damn." John sighed. "Well, since you won't send me a proposal to start your own lab, maybe try for some smaller colleges? I know it's not great, but if you can get a little bit of funding to get a few papers out there separate from Uncle Sam, you can go back to the places you really want to be in a year."

"I've applied everywhere within fifty miles."

"But only to the big schools, right? What about the small ones?"

Rodney sighed. "No. To wherever there was an opening."

"What about where Caleb works? I know he's a professor."

"There aren't hiring at the current time," Rodney said, picking his voice higher—just like the damn secretary he called and got the same response fifteen times.

"Take a deep breath." Sheppard's voice was, irritatingly, soothing. "You said you applied to everything in the area. Expand your search. Even if it means moving eventually, we can handle that."

"We? There is no we," Rodney said tightly, as he finally found the college exit and accelerated. "And since I'm paying for the work at my sister's house, it would be stupid of me not to stay there."

"You're not alone. You know whatever you need, even if it's just manual labor to help pack, I'll be there."

"Stop placating me."

"I'm not. I'm trying to get you thinking of solutions instead of panicking."

"I'm panicking," he said through gritted teeth, his knuckles turning white on the steering wheel.

"Well, stop it."

"I'm going to die in that damn basement and no one will find me for months."

"Hardly. I panic if I don't hear from you twice a day, at minimum. I'd notice if you suddenly disappeared. But that's beside the point. You will find something."

"Maybe."

"You will. You're a genius. You will find something. I swear it."

"I bought Madison a piano yesterday. Did I tell you that?"

"No, that's great! How does she like it?"

"It comes next week."

"Sweet. Take some pictures and send them to me."

"It's a piano."

"I want shots of her playing."

"Then ask Jeannie," Rodney said, rolling his eyes. He pulled onto the Trans Canada Highway, headed back to the house. "Shouldn't you be working?"

"I'm in my office now. There is a god-awful amount of paperwork in finance. I had forgotten about that. It's even more than the SGC wanted."

Rodney snorted. "At least they won't shoot you if you don't get it done."

"True. Plus, I'm running the stables now, so there's a lot to do there. I love that part though. I'd do that full time if they'd let me."

"You're too much of a nerd."

"I am totally not."

"You can't leave the math well enough alone."

"Shhhh! That's supposed to be a secret, remember? You're going to kill my cool points if that gets out. People still think my father just brought me back to look good at events and so he can say all his sons are working for him. None of them think I actually do anything."

"We both know that's not true."

"You haven't heard them." He could hear Sheppard rolling his eyes.

"I don't have to. I know you have a brain and you like math problems. Are you still doing all the logic and Sudoku puzzles in pen?"

It was amusing how Sheppard could actually blush verbally. "Maybe."

"Ha! I knew it. You are a nerd."

"Jerk." Sheppard laughed. "After that, I'm going to need to go drive my car really fast for a while to re-establish my stupid flyboy reputation."

"You know I can track you now, right? I should call the state police on your ass. It would serve you right."

"What do you mean you can track me?"

"Technology, Sheppard, can do wonders," Rodney said with a smile.

"So how are you doing it? And how accurate is it?"

"I can't look now. I'm driving."

"I'm going to start going to weird places just to see if you catch it."

"You know I will."

"It can be like a massive game of hide and seek."

Rodney laughed. "You are an idiot."

Sheppard laughed. "Maybe. And Dave is standing in my door, so I need to go. Talk to you later?"

"You know where to find me," Rodney said.

"I'll give you a call tonight. Bye!"

Rodney clicked off without saying anything. Sheppard was used to it and didn't care. At least Sheppard sounded like he was settling in okay, which was good. Rodney had to finish a few more things for Sheppard's MIT application. He had time to do that tonight.

He and Sheppard ended up playing GPS hide and seek a few days later on a Saturday, but Sheppard had to admit defeat when Rodney was able to give him the exact GPS coordinates of his phone no matter where he went.

Rodney wasn't about ready to admit that he'd hacked into the SGC's satellite. Apparently, he hadn't lost all of his mad hacking skills.

His fun was curtailed later that week when Jeannie announced they were going on a picnic, and yes, he had to come.

He had protested, but that only got him one concession: it would be in the backyard instead of the nearby park. The fact that there was a real bathroom and not an outhouse was of little consolation.

Jeannie dragged a huge blanket out, and even put all the food in a basket. The Brat was hugely entertained.

"How can this be sanitary?"

"A little dirt never hurt anyone, Mer."

"You don't know what's in it and you know I'm allergic to lots of things," he complained.

"You are not going to have an allergic reaction from sitting on a blanket."

"You don't know that," he countered. "What did you wash it with?"

"The same thing I wash your clothes in. Stop whining, Mer. I swear, you're worse than Madison."

"I'm concerned about my health," he sniffed, but took the jug of juice she thrust at him.

"You're being a hypochondriac. I know you have allergies, but sitting on a blanket is not going to hurt you."

"You don't know that," he grumbled as he followed Jeannie outside. Caleb and the brat were already out there. It looked like Madison was already munching on a slice of watermelon.

They all sat down, and Jeannie handed him a plate of food and a bottle of water.

"What is this?" he asked, peering under the bread.

"Organic peanut butter."

"Shouldn't we have hot dogs and hamburgers? You know, if this was a real summer picnic." He took a bite. It wasn't bad, but it was a little dry.

She shot him one of her Looks. "We don't eat those. I have tofu hotdogs for later."

"You don't eat them. I eat them. And what do you mean 'for later'? Why not now?"

"Later as in, later in the week, not today."

"Oh," Rodney said, taking another bite of his sandwich. "But, why not now? I mean, if you wanted to be authentic and everything it would make sense to have hot dogs…or tofu dogs or whatever it is you eat mashed in a bun."

"Because that is a bar-b-que, not a picnic."

"Semantics," Rodney said, rolling his eyes. He felt a pinch on his arm but when he glanced down, he didn't see anything. His imagination most likely. His skin was crawling because he was sitting on his filthy blanket.

"Just eat your dinner, Mer."

"I am," he said, clearing his throat. The peanut butter was sticking. Ugh. He hated that. He took a swig of water, trying to wash it down.

No you're not, you're complaining about everything."

"I'm…" he cleared his throat again, "eating." He scratched his arm, realizing it was the same spot as the weird pinch. "Ah, Jeannie, we might have a problem."

"We don't have any problems, Mer." She gave him an exasperated look.

"Ah…yes, we do." He swallowed again, thickly. He could feel his skin getting tighter and itchy.

"The only problem we have, Mer, is that you won't just sit back and enjoy for once, instead of complaining about everything."

"Bee. There was a bee." He could feel his throat constricting.

"There aren't any bees here, Mer."

"Was." He gasped. "Epi…epi pen."

"Mer? Oh my god! Caleb, call the ambulance!" Jeannie was suddenly there next to him. "Try to relax and breathe, Mer."

"Mom, look!" Madison said, pointing to something on the blanket. "I think it's dead."

"Oh my god, oh my god. Mer, I'm sorry! I'm so sorry. Caleb! Tell them to get here now! He's having a hard time breathing!"

"Epi…" he managed to say, his hand on his throat as if it would somehow make it open up.

"I don't have any epi-pens in the house. None of us need them. Oh my god. Caleb, where are the damn medics?"

"I just called them," Caleb yelled. "They're coming."

Rodney clutched at his sister's arm, trying desperately to drag in a breath. The wheezing trickle of air wasn't enough.

"Don't give up, Mer, just keep trying to relax and breathe. I remember that. If you tense up, it will restrict everything even more. The medics are on the way."

He couldn't breathe! Did she not understand that? He could already see the black spots growing as he desperately clawed for ever last molecule of air.

He had no idea how long it took the medics to get there. He had just about given up hope of ever getting in more air when suddenly there was a sharp pain in his throat.

Where was the pain medication? If he had air he would have screamed. Oh god, it hurt.

The next thing he saw was a white, metal ceiling. He could hear a siren somewhere and he thought someone was holding his hand.

There was something over his face and neck, and he was vaguely aware that oxygen was somehow getting into him, but he couldn't gather enough brain power to even reach up to see what it was.

He blinked a few times, trying to sort things out. He felt another prick—this time in his leg and then a flush of adrenaline. Epi pen. Someone had found a god-damned epi pen.

Some of the immediate pain in his chest started to clear, but his brain still wouldn't completely kick in.

He managed to turn his head to the side and spotted Jeannie, her face streaked with tears.

Her mouth was moving, and he heard sound, but he couldn't string together what she was saying.

He squeezed her hand, partially unintentionally as his body started to buzz. He hated this just as much as the not breathing part. He'd be jittery for hours.

He didn't know what happened, but all the sudden, he wasn't staring at the white ceiling anymore, he was looking at one of those paneled versions, with tiles that always seemed to be water damaged.

He took a breath—through his mouth—feeling his lungs inflate the way they were supposed to. He was still jittery, but he was breathing. And this was obviously a hospital.

"Doctor McKay?" A person in a while coat—nondescript, male, not Carson—stepped up to the bed. "Can you respond?"

"Hospital?" he tried to say, but it was a mangled mess.

"Yes, you're in the hospital. You had a severe allergic reaction from a bee sting. We've got you on medication, but you're not out of the woods yet. Your sister said you have a history of secondary reactions, so for the next twenty-four hours, at least, you're going to be my guest."

He rolled his eyes. No kidding. This was a severe reaction and he knew he could be biphasic.

"Now, I want you to close your eyes and do your best to relax and breathe deeply. A nurse will be checking on you every ten minutes, but if you start to experience any distress, trouble breathing, anxiety, or anything else you think we need to be aware of, press the red button on the bed right next to your head."

Rodney nodded his head, but stopped immediately when he felt the pain from where they'd had to intubate him. Yeah. This was not going to be fun.

The doctor clucked at him, and made sure all the wires and things hooked up to him were still in the right places. "Try not to move too much. I know it will be hard, but resting and letting your body heal is the best thing for you right now. If you can sleep, I encourage you to do that."

Rodney snorted, but even that hurt. Great. How was he supposed to sleep with adrenaline still thumbing through his system?

The doctor patted his arm. "I'll be checking on you periodically as well. With luck, you won't have a second reaction and we'll have you out of here tomorrow."

He rolled his eyes as the doctor left him staring up at the ceiling. Twenty-four hours of this was going to be torturous. Turning his head carefully, he surveyed the room. No sign of his clothes or shoes. The drawer on the side table was open and he could see there were some things stuffed inside.

He wondered if his phone was there. Sheppard was going to be pissed if he just disappeared without telling him everything was fine. The last thing they needed was for him to show up panicked and yelling on Jeannie's doorstep.

He'd brought his phone outside with him. Maybe it had been in his pocket. Maybe.

He should at least try to tell Sheppard he was okay. He couldn't really talk—for obvious reasons—so texting was a viable option.

Before he could figure out the best way to get up and go get the phone, Jeannie marched in with Caleb and Madison right behind her. "Oh My God! Mer! I am so sorry!"

He scowled at them. Yes, they should be very sorry for not listening to him. Jeannie should know better.

She sat down next to his bed. "The doctor said you can have visitors, but we all can't stay long. So Caleb is going to take Maddie home soon, and I'll stay the night, then we'll switch off in the morning."

Rodney narrowed his eyes at her. Stay the night? What time was it? He lifted his wrist and pointed to where his watch normally was.

"Don't worry about it. You're going to be fine. They assured us it will all be okay. So just relax and rest. The doctor said you really need to be resting."

"What…time…?" he whispered.

She sighed. "Late. You were out of it for a while while they got you breathing again. You weren't for a while, at least not on your own."

That explained some of the weirdness in his head. "Epi pen?"

"I didn't have any at the house, but the medics did. We'll stock up, I promise."

He scowled harder at her. She should know better.

She patted his arm again. "Just rest for now and don't worry."

Rodney sighed silently, rolling his eyes. He felt wired and exhausted at the same time. He wanted to run around the block a few times. His skin felt like it was crawling. He hated this.

Caleb had come over to the other side of the bed, holding the Brat up so she could see. To his surprise, she looked serious. "I drew you a picture to make you feel better, Uncle Mer." She handed him a piece of paper with a lot of rainbows and things on it.

"Thank you," he whispered quietly, offering a small smile.

She gave him a small smile. "Get better soon, okay?"

The nurse wandered in then, immediately shooing them out of the room. "Don't you know visiting hours are over? And what is that child doing in here? You know she's not allowed on the floor."

Jeannie stood up. "She's his niece, and my husband is getting ready to leave with her. She wanted to see her Uncle and make sure he was okay."

"I don't care who she is. She's not allowed on the floor and my patient needs to be resting."

"The doctor, who has a more advanced degree than you do, gave her permission to come in for a quick visit. And he also said one of us is allowed to stay the night here."

"Absolutely not."

"I'm not leaving. He's my brother, and he's been through a traumatic event. He doesn't need to be alone right now."

"He's hooked up to more monitoring devices than you need to know and he's on a continuous schedule to be checked every five to ten minutes. Your brother is in good hands," she said as she started checking the various monitors.

"He's my brother, and I need to be here for him. I won't get in the way, But I need to be here."

"And from what I can tell, you were the one who put him in here," she curtly.

Jeannie narrowed her eyes. "Actually, it was a bee that put him in here."

"And you didn't have the supplies to treat him even though, from your brother's medical history, he's had reactions like this in the past. Now," she said, glaring at Jeannie, "it's time for you to go."

Jeannie crossed her arms over her chest. "He just moved in not long ago, so it's not like it was something I had been neglecting. And I'm not leaving."

"Take it up with the doctor."

"I already did, and he gave me permission to be here."

"And he told me no visitors. Take it up with him. I need this room cleared," she said. It was like he was watching a train wreck.

Jeannie sat back down in her chair. "He'll have to come in here and tell me that himself. Until then, I'm not leaving my brother's side."

"I'll be fine," Rodney whispered.

Jeannie looked at him. "I need to be here to make sure you're all right. Now stop talking. You just need to rest."

"I can't have you in here. I will call security to remove you," the nurse said. "Would you prefer spending time in jail?"

"You are not going to arrest me for wanting to make sure my brother is okay. Where is the doctor? I have his permission to be here."

"I can and will have you arrested. I suggest you find the doctor yourself," she said, heading to the phone in the room. She picked it up and pressed a single button. "Yes. I need security to this room. A visitor is refusing to leave. Thank you."

Jeannie scowled at her. "This is not over." She marched out, presumably in search of the doctor.

"Now," the nurse said, flashing him a smile even Rodney knew was fake, "if you need anything, press that button. Otherwise, be a good boy and rest."

He wasn't sure what she expected him to do. It wasn't like he could talk to answer her.

Rodney sighed as she walked out. This was very close to being a nightmare. He looked around the room a few more times before deciding to explore the bedside table. Maybe his phone was in there.

He had to move carefully, making sure not to pull any wires that would set off alarms and send the nurses running in.

He snagged the edge of the drawer and tugged it open, spotting his iPhone immediately. Finally. Something was going right.

He managed to get it, and get settled back in the bed, without incident. A minor miracle.

Rodney quickly navigated to the texting app and composed a quick note. Something simple. He was fine now and he didn't want to worry Sheppard. The man had other things to do than worry.

 _Don't panic if you hear from my sister. I'm fine._

He had a feeling the nurses wouldn't look kindly on him having the phone, much less on his moving around to get it, so he locked it and carefully hid it under his body where they weren't likely to find it.

The nurse returned a few moments later, poking at him and checking the monitors before leaving again.

This was going to be a very long night.

Rodney dozed a little during the next few checks, but it wasn't until the third or fourth check that his luck ran out. His phone dinged with a new email when Nurse Broomhilda was writing notes in his chart.

She immediately perked up. "What was that?"

"What was what?" he whispered.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Hand it over."

Rodney shook his head. He wasn't giving up his only means of communication.

Her eyes narrowed to thin slits. "You will give it up, or we will toss the bed. Your choice."

He glared right back, the same one he gave his minions when they weren't listening to him. The one that made them run in horror.

She just ignored it. "Last chance. Hand it over or lose it."

Rodney shook his head.

She picked up the phone, and a few minutes later, two other large male nurses came in. "We need to move him to the other bed and toss the sheets. He is hiding an unauthorized cell phone."

"Come on!" he whispered, but of course his traitorous cell phone binged again with another incoming message. Locating the phone didn't take much after that.

They were merciless and in minutes had the phone. It was taken out of the room. "You'll get it back when you check out."

He was panting hard. Fighting against the two male nurses had been pointless, but he wasn't going to give up his phone without a fight. He coughed, trying to swallow.

It was enough that the remaining male nurse took a good look at him, then hit the call button.

God, no, he thought as he tried to swallow past the lump in his throat. He didn't need round two.

Immediately, the Nurse from Hell returned, took one look at him, and called for a doctor. In the meantime, she grabbed an Epi-pen and stuck him in the leg.

If he could have screamed he would have. As it was, the epi pen forced the drug into his system and moments later his heart was racing, threatening to pound out of his chest. But at least he was breathing.

The doctor rushed in, and then it was a frenzy of activity around him.

By the time they were done, he was hooked up to even more equipment and exhausted from simply trying to breathe. Who knew it would be so difficult? A sedative or something was slipped into his IV at some point and the next thing he knew he was waking up and the sun was shining in. Jeannie was sitting at his bedside looking pale and rumpled.

When she saw he was awake, she immediately sat up. "Oh my God, Mer! How are you feeling?"

He blinked a few times and opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out, not even a whisper.

She pushed the button to call the nurse. "Here. They told me I could give you a little bit of water if you woke up." She put a straw up to his mouth.

He sucked down the cool water greedily. Heaven, pure heaven. Jeannie pulled it away before he could have more than a few sips. He tried to follow the straw, but Jeannie's hand held him down against the bed. When had she gotten so strong?

"Wait until the doctor sees you. He said not to let you have too much. We don't want to send you into another reaction."

He huffed silently, but really couldn't argue with her. He felt like a wet noodle. He felt horrible.

A few minutes later, the doctor from the first night came in. "Ahh, our patient is awake. I'll need to run a few tests, but for the most part, we want you resting today. In addition to sleep, you'll need to spend about ten minutes every hour breathing pure oxygen from the mask. We've been doing it for you while you were out, but now that you're awake, we'll just let you know when it's time to put it on."

"Home?" he asked, mouthing the word.

The doctor shook his head. "You had a bi-phasic reaction, and it was pretty severe. We're going to keep you here until we're sure you won't have another one, and then we'll talk. At least another twenty-four hours."

Rodney groaned. He just wanted to go home.

The doctor patted his shoulder. "Just take it easy, rest, and with luck we'll be able to release you tomorrow."

Rodney watched the doctor leave and then turned his head to his sister who was looking miserable as she sat next to his bed. "Take me home?" he whispered. It was the best he could do.

She shook her head. "Not until we know you're in the clear. I don't want to have to go through calling the medics and watching you gasp for breath while we wait for help to arrive again."

"Hate hospitals."

"I know. But they can make sure you don't die."

Rodney sighed. "Took my phone."

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I heard about that. Fighting them is what set off your second reaction, doofus. And don't think you're getting it back when we get home. The doctor said you'll need as much rest and freedom from stress there for a while as you have here. So no computer, no cell phone, and no other gadgets."

"Oh come on!" he whispered, shifting on the bed so he could see her better. He hissed in pain as he moved.

She stood up and pressed him back into the bed. "No buts, and I won't budge on this. You're going to get better before you work yourself up again. And I know you, Mer. You'll start trying to yell at people on the phone and via email, get all worked up, and have another attack."

"Come on. Let me sit up."

"No. You need rest."

"Jeannie…"

"No. And that's final. I talked to the doctor already, and we're getting your room ready for you. I even moved a small television upstairs for you to watch. But you will rest and recover."

He huffed, his hand curling into a fist. He hated this. Hated being sick and weak and hated being coddled.

She patted his arm. "I know you chafe at being still. But this is what you need to get better fast, instead of spending months recovering."

How he managed to fall asleep so angry and annoyed he never knew, but when he woke again the sun had shifted and the room was silent.

There were soft beeps in the room, and looking around, he saw Jeannie sleeping in a chair near the bed.

She looked exhausted and pale. But it only served her right. She should have had epi pens in the house. She knew how allergic he was to citrus and bees and…and everything else.

He ended up sleeping on and off for most of the day and night. How he managed it, he didn't know. He wasn't really tired. At least he didn't feel tired. Although, he guessed the allergy meds they were giving him could have something to do with it.

The next morning he was finally released from the hospital and into something that may have been even more torturous. If he thought the nurses in the hospital were bad, Jeannie was worse by a long shot. She hovered. And fussed. And refused to let him get out of bed unassisted. There was nothing wrong with his legs and he did not need help to pee.

Jeannie, though, refused to budge on anything.

His laptop was gone. As was the house phone extension that had been in the guest room. His phone, too, was long gone, buried somewhere in the house.

Jeannie had given him a television, which she had somehow managed to use the child lock on to prevent him from watching anything she thought would upset him.

After cruising through the three channels he was allowed to watch and discovering two of them included purple dinosaurs, he turned it off, throwing the remote against the door and watching with satisfaction as the remote cracked and broke.

When his sister came in to see what was wrong, she took one look at the remote and rolled her eyes. "I hope you know I'm not replacing that. Now you'll just have to go without television, too."

"I should have stayed in the hospital," he said, proud of the fact that he was getting his voice back—at least a little.

"You were the one insisting on coming home as soon as possible, so don't blame me."

"I'm not an invalid."

"At the moment, yes you are. The doctor said any activity right now could trigger another reaction. So you will stay in that bed until I say otherwise."

"I know how to take care of myself."

"Obviously not." She rolled her eyes. "Now, what would you like for dinner?"

"A burger. Beef."

She sighed. "Fine. But if you tell Caleb, I will hurt you."

"And real French fries, too."

"Yes yes. But if I find you got out of bed for any reason while I'm out, it will go down the garbage disposal faster than you can say McDonalds."

Rodney rolled his eyes. "And I want my phone."

"No."

"I need to text Sheppard."

"No, you don't. I've kept him posted on what's going on, and I'll continue to do so until I think you won't send yourself into another fit with your phone."

"You talked to him?"

"He's called every day, usually more than once." She rolled her eyes.

"What was that for?"

"He's almost as irritating as you are with trying to get you the phone so he can talk to you. The two of you are like children sometimes."

"He's worried. He knows how bad my reactions can be."

"And I told him you were fine, and you could call him when you're better."

"Which is now."

"Which is when I say it is."

Jeannie left the room then, closing the door behind her firmly. He shifted on the bed, trying to adjust the pillows so he was up a little bit instead of flat on his back. He closed his eyes for a minute and when he opened them again discovered he'd slept for hours.

There was a book on the bedside table, his old copy of The Hobbit. Where Jeannie had gotten it from, he didn't know. Hell, he thought he'd lost it years ago.

There was also the tantalizing smell of beef and greasy fries wafting to him from a covered plate.

Rodney managed to get himself mostly upright and pulled the plate into his lap. He inhaled most of the fries and about three bites of the burger before he pushed it aside, the food sitting like a lump in his stomach.

Of course, that was when he noticed the note sitting on top of the book.

 _Mer –  
Eat slow. You've gone several days without real food.   
-Jeannie."_

He managed to keep the food down, but even he had to admit that it probably hadn't been the best choice as a first meal.

Rodney started the book Jeannie had left, letting himself get lost in the story. He fell asleep with the book on his chest at some point.

The next few days passed pretty much exactly the same way. Jeannie was over-zealous in making sure Rodney was resting and doing exactly what the doctor had told her he needed to be doing.

It was torture. Sheer torture.

Finally, Jeannie had to run The Brat somewhere, and Caleb was at work. Leaving him alone for the first time in a week.

He climbed out of bed and managed to get himself in a pair of sweats. Then he headed downstairs—after a brief trip to the bathroom. He picked up the house phone and dropped onto the couch. Everything was bright and new and amazing. He never thought he would appreciate the living room so much.

He dialed a number he knew by heart. It was sad at how thrilled he was to here the tired voice answer. "Sheppard."

"I wouldn't recommend asphyxiation as a way to go. There's no way it could ever be erotic, either."

"McKay?" Sheppard's voice was incredulous.

Rodney coughed, pulling the phone away from his mouth so he wouldn't cough in Sheppard's ear. "Sorry. And yeah, it's me. Or what's left of me."

"Christ. You scared the shit out of me, you jerk. How are you feeling?" The relief in the other man's voice was flattering.

"Better than I was, if that's any consolation," Rodney said, putting his feet up on the coffee table. He should have grabbed socks.

"Your sister is scary. If she hadn't threatened me, I would have been up there days ago."

"Nothing you could do except watch me sleep," Rodney said with a shrug. It was sad, but true. He'd slept a lot. "She actually stole my cell phone, so I managed to find the house phone. She ran out to the store and would kill me if she knew I got up."

"So what exactly happened? She said you were stung by a bee."

"Yeah. On my left arm. No one believed me until I couldn't breathe."

"Shit. But at least they got you to the hospital in time."

"Eventually, yeah. I honestly don't remember much after a certain point in the backyard until I was in the hospital. The doctors say the scar will eventually go away."

"Fuck." He heard John take a deep breath. "Is there anything I can do?"

"Send Jeannie a few boxes of epi-pens so she has some in the house next time this happens," Rodney said, feeling a tickle starting in his throat. "I don't want to get another hole in my throat if I don't have to." He pulled the phone away from his mouth as he coughed again, wishing he had the energy to go to the kitchen for some water. He should have grabbed it before he sat down.

He heard typing in the background. "When do they think you'll be completely back to normal?"

"Few more days. I was fine a few days ago, but Jeannie's been worse than Carson."

"Good. You need to give yourself time to heal before you go abuse your body again."

Rodney rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I guess. I'm just glad it all worked out. I never want to hear my sister crying and screaming like that again."

"God... Rodney..." Rodney was surprised to hear the other man actually choking up a bit. "Yeah. Don't do that again, okay?"

"Trust me. It wasn't my plan in the first place." Rodney sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. He hated this, hated everything about this. At least Carson knew that teams had to stick together, that they needed the support. Jeannie…Jeannie…he did feel bad about his sister, for what she'd been through. "I hate this and I feel bad about yelling at Jeannie about not being prepared since she's been walking around looking guilty for days now. I mean, it's great to be waited on hand and foot, but still…"

"I know." Sheppard sighed softly. "I wish I was there."

"There's nothing you could do." Nothing at all which made it harder.

"I still wish I was there."

"Why? There's really nothing you can do except watch me sleep. Jeannie barely lets me get out of the bed to go to the bathroom even though I am more than capable of navigating the house on my own."

"I'm glad you're feeling better, though."

"Me, too," Rodney said, letting some of the relief flow though his voice. He didn't want to admit how worried he'd been at the beginning that he might not wake up, that he might survive Pegasus and die thanks to a stupid bee. "Jeannie's been going on for days now that I have to stop scaring her. But I have to tell you, it was pretty scary from my end, too."

"I can imagine. Well, no, I can't, but..." The other man trailed off. "So when can I come up and visit you without your sister hurting me?"

"You just started working. You can't want a vacation already."

"I want to see for myself that you're still alive and well."

Rodney rolled his eyes. "I'm fine. I'm talking to you aren't I?"

"I know, it's... I guess you're right. You should still come visit me though."

Yeah, right, Rodney thought, snorting to himself. "Like Jeannie would let me. She barely lets me out of my bedroom to pee, let alone go to another country."

"I didn't mean tomorrow. Maybe next month."

"Maybe," Rodney said vaguely, tilting his head to the side. Seconds later the phone was pulled out of his hands. "Hey!"

She glared at him. "Is this John?"

Rodney scowled up at her.

She just stared him down. "My dumb-ass brother thought it was a good idea to trek downstairs to get the phone. I have to have a talk with him and put him back to bed."

"It's not far," Rodney grumbled.

"It's been a few days."

"A week!" Rodney said, getting a glare from his sister.

"He needs his rest."

"I've been resting. That's all I've been doing," he said, his words ending in a yawn.

She rolled her eyes at him. "That is not happening," Jeannie said firmly. When he started to move, her stare got hard again. "And Meredith Rodney McKay, where do you think you're going? Sit right back down until I tell you that you can get up."

"I have to pee."

"John, I will call you back later. Bye." She hung up the phone and faced him, her hands on her hips.

"What?"

"You know damn well you shouldn't be out of bed. Back upstairs. Now!"

"You're treating me like a prisoner! I'm a guest."

"I'm treating you like a person who was in the hospital not one week ago and almost dead! Now, upstairs!"

"I'm thirsty," he said instead, heading toward the kitchen.

"Meredith. Upstairs." She blocked his path. "I will bring you water, but so help me, you will go back to bed right now."

"Jeannie, come on. This is ridiculous."

Her eyes narrowed. "I'm going to start counting in a minute, and you won't like it if I have to do that."

"Or what? Are you going to drag me upstairs, tie me to the bed, and drug me? What?" He huffed and started pushing past her. "I'm getting a drink."

She grabbed his arm, and it was a testament to how weak he still was that she was not only able to stop him, but was able to start pulling him toward the stairs. "Or you will not get any treats, nothing but water and what I make for dinner to eat, and you'll be stuck in the bed for even longer."

"Jeannie, stop," he demanded weakly.

"No. You are going back to bed, where you will rest and regain your strength."

"I'm fine."

"No, you are not."

"Am to," he said, even as Jeannie pushed him up the stairs.

"You can't heal if you don't rest, jackass."

"That's all I've been doing," he whined.

"Because you nearly died!"

"You need to stop bringing that up," Rodney said as Jeannie pushed him into his guest room.

"It's true."

"And we both know why it happened in the first place," he said with a glare as he sat down on the bed.

"Because you got stung by a bee. Me having Epi-pens or not in the house wouldn't have changed that. Nor would they have prevented your secondary reaction."

"You don't know that. I do know I wouldn't have gotten a hole in my neck is you'd had an epi-pen."

She sighed. "And I feel horrible about that. But I don't know what you want me to say other than I'm sorry."

"I don't know," he said with a sigh. "I'm tired and cranky and I feel like a prisoner. Sometimes I think the Genii treated me better—although there is less fear of you killing me here, which is a bonus." He coughed into his hand, his throat a little rough. He'd talked more now than he had in a week.

She completely deflated, and he felt a little guilty. "I'm not trying to keep you prisoner, Mer. I just... I want to fix this by making sure you heal."

"I know, but you're smothering me."

"Fine. Do whatever you want." She turned and left the room.

"Jeannie…." He called out and then sighed. He still needed that water.

"I'm getting your drink, Mer." She called back up the stairs.

Rodney moved back onto the pillows he'd propped up at the head of the bed, sliding his legs under the blankets and pulling them up into his lap. He closed his eyes, more exhausted from the trip down the stairs than he realized.

He didn't even realize he had fallen asleep until he woke up to find it dark outside, and a glass of water sitting beside his bed, along with a small plate of food.

He sipped on the water, letting it run down his throat before he huffed and headed to the hall bathroom. The house was quiet. But he could hear the television on low downstairs somewhere. It was late. He'd slept most of the day away.

No one came running up at the sound of him flushing, so he guessed it was Caleb still up.

He went back in his room and ate the food Jeannie had left, taking his medicine with the last of his water. He was going to try to read but his eyes were heavy and he slid under the covers instead. It was just easier that way.

Two days later, Jeannie walked in his bedroom, the cordless phone in her hand.

"All right, the doctor said that since you haven't had any further reactions, you should be out of the woods. He advised you to continue to take it easy, buy you're not on bed rest anymore."

"Does that mean I can go downstairs?"

"Yes."

"And use my laptop?"

She sighed. "Yes. And your phone is downstairs charging."

"Can I use the house phone to call Sheppard?"

She rolled her eyes. "That's why I brought it up for you. Just... try to take it easy, okay? You still aren't back to one-hundred percent."

"Yes, I know. You have beaten that particular thought into my head."

"Good. You can come down and sit in the living room, and you can have dinner with us tonight."

"Right now I'm calling Sheppard," he said, holding out his hand for the phone.

She rolled her eyes again, but handed over the phone and wandered back out.

He dialed Sheppard's cell and waited for him to pick up.

"Sheppard."

"I've been upgraded from almost dead to probably won't die."

Sheppard chuckled. "Good to hear! Are you officially allowed to use the phone, or am I going to get chewed out again for talking to you?"

"Jeannie said my cell is charging downstairs."

"Wow, that's impressive. She's even letting you have that back."

"Laptop, too. I've been informed that I'm eating dinner downstairs tonight, too."

"You really are moving up in the world." Sheppard laughed again.

"Yeah, sure," Rodney said, rolling his eyes. "I may have told her she was worse than the Genii the other day."

There was a moment of silence. "You did what?"

"I…" he rubbed the back of his neck. "I told her she was worse than the Genii. You know…apart from the wanting to kill me part. Although, now that I think about it, she probably does want to kill me but the paperwork is the only thing holding her back."

"Rodney..." Sheppard laughed. "You're incorrigible, you know that right?"

"What? It's true, though. She barely let me get up to pee. If she had handcuffs I'm sure she would have tied me to me to the bed."

"She was only trying to help, and she felt guilty."

"She should have felt guilty. She's the one who didn't have a single epi-pen in the house and she made me eat dinner outside."

"Speaking of which, did you get my care package? Well, the first care package anyway. There's another one coming."

"You sent me something?" Rodney asked, perking up. "And no. I haven't seen a thing outside of this room in a week apart from the bathroom and that's when the Napoleonic terror lets me pee."

"I sent you two things actually. The first is a huge box of Epi-Pens so you can stash them all over the damn house, in your car, and pretty much anywhere else you might be. The second you're just going to have to wait and see."

"What did you send me? I can hack your computer and find out, you know."

"I thought of that, which is why I didn't use any of my own computers." Sheppard sounded smug.

Rodney scowled. "You mean you're actually starting to use the two brain cells you have?"

"You're just pissed you have to wait like a normal person for your surprise."

"Maybe," Rodney grumbled, glancing up when the bedroom door opened again and Jeannie wandered in. "Hang on a sec," he said to Sheppard, covering the mouth of the phone with his hand. "What?"

"You have two boxes waiting for you downstairs. The UPS guy just delivered them."

"Hey, Sheppard, the boxes are here," he said as he pushed the blankets off his legs.

"Really? Sweet! Go open them! I want to see how you like it."

"I'm going downstairs now," he said, moving past his sister and slowly down the stairs. Falling down the stairs when he finally got his freedom was not an option.

The two boxes were sitting in the living room—fortunately the Brat was out with friends, so he didn't have to fight her for the rights to open his own stuff.

The first one Rodney opened and he handed it right to Jeannie. "This one's for you. Make sure you keep it handy."

She looked in, and made a face, but smiled. "Tell John I said thanks. With luck, this is more Epi-pens than we'll ever need."

"Did you hear her?" Rodney asked as he moved to the second box. "I actually think she picked up a few last week, but it was kind of a 'closing the barn door after the horse left' sort of thing."

"Yeah, tell her I said you're welcome, and to keep them handy!"

"I will, later," Rodney said, moving to the couch. He managed to get an edge of the tape and starting pulling. "What did you use on this thing? Duct tape?"

"I wanted to make sure it got to you without anyone messing with it."

"Who is going to screw with a box?"

"You never know."

Rodney grumbled to himself as he tried to get the damn box open. He was not going to admit he needed help with the stupid tape. He wasn't that weak.

"Oh for goodness sakes." Jeannie came in with a knife. "Just use something sharp, will you?"

"Whoa!" he said, throwing up his hands. "Careful with that. The last thing I need is for you to slice my arm open."

She made a face at him, sliced through the tape, and then walked away.

"She's dangerous with sharp objects," Rodney complained into the phone even as he dug into the box.

"Yeah yeah, so?"

"I'm looking, I'm looking," he said, shoving the packing material to the side. He pulled out a few books. "Sudoku puzzle books?"

"Some. Look at everything. There's a variety of stuff." He could almost see Sheppard bouncing in his seat.

"Crossword puzzle books."

"I got the hardest ones I could find for you."

"Science journals?" Rodney asked as he put the puzzle books to the side.

"I didn't know which ones you had, and which ones you were behind on, so I tossed in everything I could find."

"Some of them I haven't been able to renew my subscription to. How did you get them?" he asked as he pulled them out.

"I called around. And maybe bullied a few people. I didn't know how long you'd have to stay in bed, and even now you'll still probably need a lot more rest for the next week or so, so at least this will give you some new reading material."

Rodney snorted. "You've been talking to Jeannie far too much, I think."

Sheppard laughed softly. "I called the house every day for an update on how you were doing, I know you were chaffing at being confined, even while you were exhausted most of the time."

"Are you hitting on my sister? She's married, you know."

"No, Rodney, I'm not hitting on your sister. Ew. That's like... hitting on family."

"Good, well…good," Rodney said, something twinging in his chest, something he didn't want to think about. "What else is in here?"

"Keep looking."

"What do you think I'm doing? Knitting?" he grumbled. His hand encountered a box at the bottom. "What's this?"

"Something to keep your mind stimulated while you recover."

"My mind is fine just the way it is," he said, turning over the box in his hands. "What is…a game thing?"

"Totally. And I put some games I thought you would like in there, too."

Rodney reached back inside and pulled out the games. Two puzzle games, an RPG, and a video game original, Pong. "What are you, five?" he asked, but the harshness wasn't there.

"I knew you'd like it." Again, he could just picture Sheppard bouncing in his seat.

Rodney snorted, but turned the games over and over in his hand, reading the back, checking the front. "You didn't have to, you know. I'm fine."

"I know. I wanted to. Since I can't be there to entertain you, this was the best I could do."

"You have things to do. Like work. I don't need a babysitter."

Sheppard huffed. "I'm not babysitting you. I just... I wish I was there to help. You know? It's hard being so far away when you've been hurt. I should be there by your side yelling at Carson to make you better."

"Well, Carson's not here," Rodney said tightly.

"I know." Sheppard sighed.

Rodney lets the silence build for a few minutes, lets the memories seep in. "I should let you go."

"I guess. You... you like it, right? I wanted to make you smile."

"Yes, I like it, you idiot," Rodney said with a half smile. "You really didn't have to send me anything." But, I'm really glad you did, Rodney added in his head.

"I know. I wanted to." There was real affection in Sheppard's voice that warmed Rodney. "Now, go play with your new toys, and call me later with your high scores."

"And do some work instead of goofing off."

"Yeah yeah. They keep me busy, don't worry." John laughed. "I'm glad you're feeling better. Talk to you later, okay?"

"Okay," Rodney said with a nod as he clicked the off button. He stared at the stuff surrounding him on the couch for a while before packing it back up in the bag. If he fell asleep on the couch and slept through dinner, no one mentioned it, but there was a plate of food waiting for him on the table when he woke.

****

Thankfully, after his near-death experience, things calmed down in the house. He got a few interviews scheduled at a few labs and colleges, but nothing was panning out. It was a bad time to get a job at the end of the school year. Supposedly.

He was glad that Sheppard had gotten his MIT acceptance. It would be good for him to actually use his brain. And even though he complained and whined about it, Rodney knew he'd do well.

He had sat down with Jeannie and Caleb, and they had decided to re-do the basement as a real apartment for him. He was paying for the bulk of the renovations, and it would give them all some privacy, at least.

Privacy would be a good thing, too. He couldn't even masturbate without worrying that the four-year-old brat would come wandering in. He didn't need that kind of trauma.

When the latest round of rejection letters from the colleges came in—all worded politely and telling him to try again at the end of the summer of course—he finally hit a wall. He just... didn't know what to do next.

So he decided to do what every other man faced with a similar situation would do: drink beer.

On Monday morning, he borrowed Jeannie's car in the morning and went to the liquor store as soon as it opened. He bought two 24-pack cases of Molson. He figured it would be enough.

Once he got home, he set himself up on the back deck—in the shade and away from bees—with beer and snacks.

He had only gotten a two beers in—not even enough for a good buzz—when Caleb wandered out. "Hey. Mind some company?"

"Why? Am I scaring your wife?" Rodney narrowed his eyes at him. "And why aren't you at work? It's a work day. Monday is a work day the last I checked."

"No, I wanted to chat with you. Today is a planning day at the college, so I'm home."

"No. You went to work this morning. I saw you leave."

"Yes. I got done what I needed to fairly quickly, and headed home." Caleb gave him a smile and grabbed a beer. "You mind?"

"I should have enough. I'm pacing myself."

Caleb grinned and opened his beer. He took a few sips, staring out over the yard, before speaking. "So, I might have a lead on a job, if you were interested."

"You might?" Rodney repeated, rolling his eyes. "I don't think there's anyone in the province who will hire me at this point."

"Well, I didn't want to presume to answer for you, but I said I would talk to you. The science department at my college lost a professor, and they're in desperate need of someone. There are already students signed up for the summer courses, and the fall is starting to register now. It's just a community college, which I know really isn't your thing, but they had heard you were looking for a position and approached me to ask about you."

"And let me guess, you told them I was desperate."

"No. I told them I knew you were looking around, and that I'd talk to you. They asked if I would recommend you, and I did."

"And why would they listen to you? You're just an English professor. It's not like you know anything about what I do…did," Rodney said, taking another long pull of his beer.

"No, but we're a pretty close-knit group, and they knew you were related to my wife, so they asked me about you. The head of the department had already done some background on you, and wanted to know if you were as good as you were claiming to be. I told him I knew you had been working on classified projects for the government for your entire career, so to me, that says a lot."

Rodney sniffed. "Who is the department head?"

"Andrew Meyers is his name."

"And? What else do you know?"

"What would you like to know?"

"How stupid is he? Can I work with him? Has he published?"

Caleb shrugged. "He's a bit of a pain to work with, from what I've heard in that department, but nothing unbearable."

"Why did the other professor leave?" Rodney asked, taking the last sip of his beer. He reached down to grab another one.

"I don't know. I know it was sudden, but I didn't know him well, so I don't know what his reasons were."

Rodney made a non-committal noise as he sipped on his third beer. It was still before noon. Not bad at all.

Caleb pulled a card out of his pocket. "This is his information. If you're interested, give him a call."

"Why would he even want me to teach there? I'm bad with kids. You know that."

Caleb shrugged. "He's been trying to increase the funding and prestige of the department for a few years now, that much I know. So he probably sees this as a way to get someone in who has the potential to do both. Once you have the resources, I'm guessing you plan to research and publish again."

"Maybe," he said with a shrug. Honestly, Rodney hadn't even thought about doing much of anything since he got back. Even the drives with parts of the Atlantis database weren't calling him.

Caleb shrugged. "I didn't tell them one way or another, other than to say I'd talk to you about it and give you their information, so it's up to you."

"I guess I should start working so I can start giving you rental income."

"We're fine. You contribute, and it's not that big of a deal."

"Yeah, I contribute real food."

Caleb chuckled.

"It's true," Rodney sniffed, taking another pull of his beer.

They lapsed into silence for a few minutes. "I might know a girl who would be interested in a date, too. If you were interested."

Rodney laughed out loud. He turned to Caleb. "So that's really why you're here."

"I'm here for both." Caleb smiled at him.

"Yeah, yeah. Did Jeannie put you up to this?"

"No. She actually doesn't know about the job, or about Julie, who is another of my colleagues. You're currently the talk of the school, actually, and she asked if she could meet you."

"I'm the talk of the school."

Caleb shrugged. "It's not every day someone who has worked on high-level government stuff and probably seen more than all of us combined comes into town looking for work."

"Usually those people are never out of work."

He shrugged again. "You have a legitimate reason to be out of work. But I'm not here to lecture you. I just wanted to put a few potential opportunities in front of you. It's up to you if you want to follow up or not."

"It's not like I have much choice. I need a job and I'm sure my sister is quick to point out that I need a social life."

"You don't need anything. Only what you choose to have."

Rodney snorted, taking another sip of his beer. "Right. I forget you're a tree-hugger hippie until you open your mouth."

Caleb grinned and stood up. "You can call Professor Meyer directly if you're interested in the position. And let me know if you'd like to have a date with Julie. I can set that up for you."

Rodney sighed. "Sure. Why the hell not?" It wasn't as if Sheppard was pinning over him. And besides, there really wasn't much else to do.

"All right." Caleb's smile widened. "I'll set it all up for you!"

"I'm sure you will," Rodney grumbled.

Caleb saluted him with his beer and wandered back into the house.

Rodney fingered the card in his hand, flicking the edge with his finger. What did he have to lose? He needed a job. He was quickly going through the savings he had. Between the piano purchase and the construction costs and the fact that he needed to buy a car… Yeah, a job was important.

He pulled out his phone and dialed the office number listed on the card.

A perky female voice answered. "Hello, Professor Meyer's Office. How may I help you?"

"Yes. I need to talk to him. This is Doctor Rodney McKay."

"One moment please."

Rodney was put on hold. He sipped at his beer and listened to the pathetic excuse for hold music. It sounded like a deranged kindergartener wrote and played it on a toy piano.

Finally, someone picked up. "Hello?"

"Andy Meyers?"

"Speaking."

"Doctor Rodney McKay here. Caleb Miller gave me your card and said I should call."

"Oh. Oh! Yes. Hello."

"Caleb mentioned that you had an opening."

"Yes. We do. And I've heard of you. Did some asking around. Very good. So when can you start?"

Rodney put his feet on the ground and sat up straight. "When would you need me to start?"

"Can you come in…ah…on Thursday? I'll give you the tour, and we can get your class schedule worked out for the summer session that starts in a few weeks."

"I…yes, of course. What kind of classes are you looking to have me teach?"

"The summer session is pretty lean, so it will be the lower-level stuff, but we can chat about what we'd like to do for the fall. I want to add some higher-level stuff to boost our reputation."

"I'm sure I can do that."

"Perfect. I'll see you Thursday at 9am then."

"Right. 9am. Thursday. I'll be there. Your office?"

"Yes. Good. I'll see you then." The line went dead.

Well. Huh. He might actually have a job if he didn't screw up. Rodney was a little surprised to see Caleb heading back outside a few minutes later.

"Are you free Friday night? I can make reservations at a nice Italian place for you and Julie that I know she likes. Also, I found a picture of her."

"You know my schedule. It's not like I go anywhere."

Caleb smiled. "Good. I'll make the reservation for 8pm Friday night. You can borrow the car." He handed over a yearbook with a page marked. "That's Julie."

"You have a yearbook picture of her?" Rodney asked with a chuckle.

Caleb nodded. "They give us all one every year, even though not many of the students get their pictures taken for it. But all of the faculty are in, so it's current at least."

Rodney put his beer down so he could look at the picture more carefully. Julie wasn't bad looking. A dirty-blonde with short curly hair. "Not bad."

"She's a bit aggressive, but a nice lady. I think you'll like her."

"Aggressive?"

"Maybe opinionated and not shy about sharing is a nicer way of saying it."

"Okay," Rodney said with a nod. "So Friday."

"Yeah. I'll make the reservations, and give you all the details."

"Okay," Rodney said, nodding again. He felt like a bobble-head doll. "I have to go into the college Thursday morning. I might need a ride."

"You can ride in with me."

"Good good."

Caleb smiled. "Excellent. Let me go make those reservations."

He headed back inside and Rodney leaned back. Huh. A date and a possible job. Huh. Apparently beer worked.

The next day ended up being a whirlwind of activity. One of the contractors was in measuring and planning and checking everything out in the basement. Rodney had been forced to talk to him about his plans for the area—what he needed and wanted and what actually could be done.

By the time Wednesday rolled around, he managed to get some emails answered, and had played with his Sheppard tracking program. From the looks of things, Sheppard was heading downtown, probably for a lunch meeting with a client. He did that a lot. He was really getting into the whole…business lunch thing.

He frowned at the data, and shot a quick text, not really expecting a response since the other man was driving.

 _You drive too fast and I'll laugh when you get a ticket._

He finished a few other emails before deciding he needed lunch as well. He made a sandwich and grabbed a beer to sit on the deck outside—keeping an eye on the bees, of course. It was only a matter of time before the snows came again.

His phone rang a few moments after he'd settled into the chair. He checked the caller ID and saw it was Sheppard. "Shouldn't you be eating lunch and not calling me?"

"I'm in a meeting with Arthur Havenstein, who says he knows you but won't tell me how. He just ran to the men's room, and I need some details on him so I can decide if my father's company is going to give him money. What can you tell me?"

Rodney blinked. "What? Who?"

Sheppard took a deep breath. "A scientist by the name of Arthur Havenstein. He says he knows you, or did, and I got the impression it was a long time ago. But he's hedging when I try to press him, which makes me nervous."

"He knows me?" Rodney asked, trying to think. The beer was making things a little fuzzy.

"He says he does. Think McKay. He reminds me a lot of you actually, which is what sparked my interest. But he's been reluctant to tell me much about his project. I guess he's had stuff stolen this way in the past. So I have to make a decision whether to sign him and invest a substantial amount of money in him going on my gut feeling. So I need to know if he's lying to me about knowing you."

Rodney took a breath and started thinking. Arthur. Arthur. Arthur. It could be anyone. He was bad with names. "What does he look like?"

"Average height. He's got brown hair and green eyes. Nervous, and drops things a lot. No glasses."

Hmm. Sounded familiar. "Thin?"

"Yeah."

Rodney thought a little harder. Something was hovering in the back of his head. "Arthur. Does he have a fascination with AI systems?"

"I have no idea, but yes, that's what the general idea behind his project is. I don't have any real details on it, though."

It was like a light bulb went on in his head. Arthur. He hadn't thought about him in ages. "Huh."

"You remember him?"

Rodney felt his face warm as he remembered the more…interesting memories. "If he's the person I think he might be. Granted, this would have been…more than twenty years ago, so I could be wrong—"

"Who do you think he is? If I have something to go on, I can try to verify it."

"Ah… Right." Rodney rubbed the back of his neck. "I think I slept with him."

There was dead silence for several heartbeats. "You slept with him? When?"

Rodney sighed loudly. "Remember the…incident I told you about with my father?"

"Where he caught you, and pretty much threw you out?"

"Um…yeah," Rodney said, ducking his head. "That one. Good memory."

"And it was with Arthur?!"

"Ah…maybe. I think so. It was a long time ago and honestly, I've tried to block that entire night out of my mind—for obvious reasons. But, if it's the same guy…he was good. Really smart. Older than me, but he didn't have an issue with me being young…ah, younger than him."

"Holy fuck. Seriously, how do I manage these things? And you... I always picture you dating super model-types. He's not... good enough for you." Okay, that wasn't the response Rodney had imagined.

Rodney sat up straighter, getting defensive. "He's smart. I like smart. The…body…package thing…I don't get as hung up on that part as other people."

"It's not that. He's just...you can do better. You deserve someone... I don't know. Awesome. And he's coming back, so I'll have to call you later."

Sure that was it. Rodney at least managed not to huff in his ear. "Be nice to him!"

"Yeah yeah." The line went dead.

Rodney finished off his lunch and beer, and put up his feet on the deck railing. It was nice out. Not a cloud in the sky. He had a date on Friday and a job interview tomorrow. Not too bad. He drifted for a bit, contemplating his rather sudden change of fortunes, but his buzzing phone interrupted his thoughts. He had a text from Sheppard.

 _What's the point of having a fast car if you don't go fast sometimes? It's like flying. And I signed Arthur. Thanks._

Rodney snorted to himself, a smile coming to his face as he thought back to college and Arthur. He sure knew how to fuck. He wasn't about ready to tell Sheppard that though.

 _Good. Arthur's good people. And I have a date tomorrow night._

 _A date? With who?_

Rodney typed out his reply. _It's all Caleb's fault._

The phone rang a second later. Before Rodney could say a word, Sheppard was on him. "What's Caleb's fault, and who are you going on a date with?"

Rodney rolled his eyes. "Whatever happened to the 'That's great to hear, buddy! You'll have fun!' thing you're supposed to say? What's with the twenty questions?"

"I can't be excited for you until I know who it's with, how you met, and if they're worthy."

Worthy? With the amount of people Sheppard had slept with he's worried about the worthiness of the girl? Rodney managed not to snort in Sheppard's hear. He took a breath an explained. "It's someone Caleb knows. Julie or something. It's a date, though. And she's cute."

"Oh." Was it his imagination, or did Sheppard sound... weird? "Well, good. Good luck. Bring her flowers, and take her somewhere nice to eat. I know you'll do great."

Rodney chose to ignore it. Sheppard was not into guys so he would not read into the tone of his voice. "Caleb already made reservations at an Italian place. I'm borrowing Jeannie's car. I need to get one of my own if I'm going to be driving to and from the college at all hours of the day and night."

"How's that going, by the way? The college thing I mean. I know you said Caleb got you an interview with the science department. Are you all ready for it? And what classes would you be teaching?"

Rodney made a face, thinking back to the conversation he'd had with Meyer's secretary or assistant or whatever yesterday. "Apparently, Caleb forgot to mention that I didn't actually need an interview. Tomorrow I'm touring the campus and getting all my paperwork."

"Really? That's fantastic, buddy!" There was a click, and then John's voice was more diffused, so Rodney guessed he had just gotten into the car. "So what classes? How many students? And I know they're in summer break now, so I'm guessing you'll formally start with your first class when the fall semester starts?"

"I have no idea," Rodney said, huffing a little. How was he supposed to know everything? And it was just a small college. Nothing prestigious. Nothing known. He sighed again. "It's something at least. Classes start at the end of August sometime."

"Hey, it's a step in the right direction. You can get established, and start writing some papers that will get you noticed, and get you some funding. Then you can move into the type of research you're interested in."

"I guess," Rodney said with a shrug. "Who knows. Maybe I'll get laid tomorrow night. That'll be something good at least."

"I'll be rooting for you."

"Although," Rodney said, shifting in the deck chair. "I don't know if I could have sex in my sister's house with a four-year-old down the hall. I can't wait until they finish with the basement."

"You're going to permanently move in down there, then, instead of getting your own apartment? I know you were going back and forth on the pros and cons."

He nodded, even though he knew Sheppard couldn't see him. "They're going to finish the basement and I'll stay there until I find something else. Give everyone a little more privacy."

"Yeah, that's a good idea. It will basically be your own apartment."

"Sort of. It'll be something." Rodney sighed, letting his eyes roam the backyard and all of the plants he put in. "I've become the pathetic older brother who can't find a wife or get a real job so he's stuck living at his successful sister's house, haven't I?"

"No, and stop talking about yourself that way. You're incredibly smart, and you've accomplished a lot. You're just transitioning from a government contractor to a civilian."

Yeah, right, Rodney thought. He rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Drive carefully back to the house and I'll talk to you later."

"All right. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

Rodney clicked off, dropping the phone into his lap. He really was the pathetic older brother. But at least Sheppard was settling in. He sounded…content. At least that was something.

****

The next morning, he grabbed a ride to the university campus with Caleb and managed to find the science department with little, if no issues. Caleb had tried to give him a pep talk on the way in—before he'd finished his second cup of coffee.

That hadn't gone well.

Since then, Rodney had grabbed a third cup from the cafeteria in the student center on the way to the science building. He cursed as he climbed two flights of stairs, but managed to make it to Meyer's office right on time.

The office was a disaster of... stuff. Rodney was the first to admit he wasn't the neatest guy, but this was a bit excessive, even to him.

"Hello?"

The man buried at the desk looked up and blinked a few time. "Ah. McKay right?"

"Yes. Who else would it be?" he asked, a little abruptly. He rolled his eyes and wiped his right hand on his suit jacket before sticking it out. "Doctor Rodney McKay."

Meyers waved his hand away. "Yes yes. Let me find someone to take you around." He hit a button on a phone somewhere on his desk. "Stephanie? Doctor McKay is here. Please come show him around."

"Oh. I get an office?"

"Of course." A young student, female and presumably Stephanie, came to the door. "Doctor McKay?"

"Yes," he said as he turned. God, she was young.

"Right this way, sir. I'll show you the department, and then bring you to your office."

"Oh, yes, yes, of course," he said, moving to follow her, but then paused. "So…Meyers…did you want to talk about anything else? Classes? Schedules?" Rodney looked around. He knew there should be more for him to do at this point. "Don't I need to fill out paperwork?"

Meyers waved a hand, not paying attention. "One of the girls has it for you. They'll have it in your office."

"Oh. Right." Rodney narrowed his eyes at the man and then turned, following Stephanie into the hallway.

"This is Professor Meyers' office area. I'm one of several assistants who work for them, so if you ever need anything, you can find one of us here." She pointed to a desk nearby.

"Right. Will I get an assistant?"

She shook her head. "I'm afraid not. Professor Meyers says it's not worth the expense, that everyone can share us." She gave him an apologetic look.

"Oh. Okay," he bobbed his head. "He'd mentioned I would on the phone. I can talk with him later about it. So. My office?"

She gave him a skeptical look, then motioned for him to follow her. "The other offices are all through here. That one will be yours."

"This one?" he asked as he poked his head inside. It was…Spartan, to put it nicely. "Who was in here before?"

"It's been empty for a while. We cleaned it out as soon as we heard Professor Meyers had finally hired someone." She smiled. "Those of us who want to get a degree in science have been looking forward to getting a new teacher in."

"Right. So…when did the professor leave before? And why?"

"Last year." She licked her lips, then gave him a bright smile. "Your computer has been set up already! Come over here and I'll show you the system."

He looked at her for a long moment before letting her show him the computer system. It was archaic, but it worked. After she showed him the servers and the email program, she started the tour.

The department wasn't huge, and Rodney was surprised to see how... run down parts of it looked. Compared to other areas of the college, he wondered why they weren't getting funding here.

"When was the last time the lab equipment was upgraded?"

She shrugged. "It hasn't since I started here. I don't know about before that."

"Right," he said with a sharp nod. "And what's your major?"

"Science, with a focus on bio medicine. I'm hoping to get all my preliminary classes out of the way here, and then get a good recommendation to go to one of the top schools."

"Bio medicine?" Rodney rolled his eyes. "How about astrophysics or something actually useful and not voodoo?"

She shrugged. "I want to help people."

"Right. Let me guess, you love animals, too."

"Who doesn't?"

"How many students are in the science department?" he asked instead of answering the question.

"There are about one hundred of us, total. Everyone has to go through Professor Meyers to get approval to join the department, so there are always more applications than students."

"Right. Well, he's the department head. There has to be some kind of…order and process. Otherwise the department would be overrun by idiots."

She shrugged again. "I guess."

"So, what else?"

"Your class information is here." She handed him a sheet of paper she picked up off the desk. "These are the summer classes and the registered students. You'll get the fall schedule once it gets closer."

"So…I have one class this summer."

"Yes." She smiled.

"Intro to science. Can it get any more mind-numbing?"

"That's about all that's offered in the summer."

Rodney snorted. "Okay. I need to see what the textbooks are for the class and I might need to order new ones."

"All that information is in your computer. Any text book changes have to be approved by Professor Meyers."

Rodney snorted. "We'll see."

"Anyway, just let me know if you need anything! I'll be here, or if not me, one of the others."

"Right," he said, standing in the doorway of his office. "Do you know who I ask about salary and benefits and whanot?"

"Professor Meyers."

"Right. I should go talk to him, then."

She shrugged. "You can try. He's... not really responsive to stuff like that."

"Well, as the department head, he needs to be," Rodney said. "I know it firsthand because that's what I was."

"Maybe. But..." She suddenly looked around, fear crossing her face for a moment. "Anyway, I have to go. Let me know if you need anything else!"

"Yes yes, fine. Go." Rodney rolled his eyes as he watched her run down the hall. He shook his head and headed into see Meyers.

But, of course, the man was no where to be found.

Walking back into the main area, he spotted one of the "helpers". "I need to speak to Meyers."

She looked up, and he saw her swallow, then try to hide her unease. "He stepped out. He should be back in about an hour."

"I'm not waiting an hour. You have his cell number?"

"No."

"I know he has a cell phone. What's the number?"

"I'm sorry, Professor McKay."

Rodney sighed and moved to her computer. "Get out of the way."

"Please, Professor." She actually started to cry. "I can't give you his number. I'll be punished."

"There is no crying in science," he said as he commandeered her computer. It took him three minutes to hack into the mainframe and pull the information he needed.

"Please, sir, please don't call him. Please..."

"You didn't give it to me. There's no problem," he said as he started dialing.

"He'll blame me."

"And I'll tell him the truth, that the school needs better security on their personnel files," he said, listening to the phone ring. Meyers picked up on the fourth ring.

"What the hell do you want, Marie? I told you not to call me."

"I'm not, Marie," Rodney said curtly. "This is Doctor Rodney McKay who you just hired and pushed off on a flunky. We need to talk money or I'm walking out the door."

There was a pause. "I told Marie not to give out this number. I'll have to have a talk with her about that. You'll have to wait until I get back." The line went dead.

Rodney dialed right back.

"What?"

"Marie did not give me anything. She started bawling when I asked her for the information. Instead, I had to discover that the school's data security is woefully lacking. You have ten minutes Meyers or I'm gone." Rodney hung up before Meyers could answer.

At exactly the ten minute mark, Meyers stormed in. He glared at Marie. "You. In my office. Now. We'll talk about your complete inability to secure your terminal when I'm done here."

"Excuse me?" Rodney said, arms crossed over his chest.

Meyers turned to him after the crying girl had gone into his office. "Now, what do you want?"

"I think it's about time we talked compensation."

"Fine. What do you want?"

"Just like that? Fine. One hundred thousand a year. Full benefits."

"Benefits fine. I'm not paying you more than I make, though. Fifty thousand."

"I'm worth more than you and I don't care what you make. Ninety."

"No." Meyers gestured at the door and sneered. "If you won't take fifty, feel free to leave. I know you had so many other offers, take one of those if you don't like mine."

"You're the one who courted me."

"Yes, and I can just as easily find someone else. However, I'm your last chance, so who do you think has the upper hand here?"

Rodney laughed. "Can you? The position's been open for what? Almost a year. And no one will say why the other professor left, so I'm guessing you're a bastard to work for. I deserve to be compensated."

Meyers shrugged. "Fine. Leave. You know where the door is." He turned to head into his office.

"Wait," Rodney said, taking a step toward Meyers. "Fine. If you can't offer money, what else can you offer?"

Meyers glanced back. "Full benefits, and part of your time during the day is yours to do with as you wish. You have free reign on the equipment to run experiments or whatever as long as a class isn't in session."

"I want full control of my classes. Curriculum and all."

"Fine."

"I also want the opportunity to revise my contract every six months."

"No. Contracts are revised at the end of the year for all personnel. I won't make an exception, and neither will the school."

Rodney narrowed his eyes. "Fine."

Meyers sneered again. "Now, do you have anything else you want to bother me with? I have a discipline problem I need to take care of."

"No, the school has a security problem. There's not a system in this school I couldn't get into in a matter of a few minutes. You might want to mention that to someone. Oh, and I want everything in writing by tonight."

"She could have and should have prevented you from accessing the terminal. That's her job." Meyers turned and started back to his office. "One of the girls will send you the contract tonight."

"There's four other computers in the room. Hers was on. It was faster."

"This is not your concern, McKay. Goodbye."

Rodney gritted his teeth, but left, heading down the hall to his own office. He ended up printing out the stuff he needed and found the pathetic excuse of a textbook in the science department lounge area.

The afternoon didn't get worse, but it didn't necessarily get better either. He sat in his office trying to figure out a new curriculum when his phone buzzed.

He didn't bother looking at caller ID. "What?"

"Hey! How's it going?"

"Sheppard."

"I wanted to check in and see how the first day was going."

Rodney huffed, leaning back in his chair. He groaned as his back unclenched from hunching over his desk for so long. "It's…different."

"Different good or different bad?"

"I made one of the students cry."

Sheppard laughed. "Your classes haven't even started yet. How did you manage that?"

"I wanted Meyer's phone number. He'd vanished without taking about my compensation package. I wasn't spending a minute longer here until I got that. She wouldn't give it to me, so I hacked the system and got it from his personnel file."

"So why did she cry?"

"Apparently, she's not supposed to give his cell number out."

"But still... why cry over it?"

"I don't know," he huffed. "She's a girl. They cry."

There was another chuckle. "What classes did they give you for the summer?"

"I have an intro to science class with like…" he shuffled through some papers. "Ten students."

"Well, that's just for the summer and what you're walking in to. The fall should be better."

"Maybe. Meyers seems like a bastard to work for."

"Oh?"

"And I know what's it's like to be a bastard to work for, so you know I can spot them a mile away. If I didn't need the job so badly…" He sighed.

"Hang in there, buddy. This is just a stepping stone remember. You're using this to give you a way to publish a few things so you can get a position in a real lab."

"Yeah yeah. I know."

"The date is tomorrow, right?"

"Yeah, crap," Rodney said with a sigh. He'd forgotten. "Tomorrow night."

"Remember to stop and get flowers on the way."

"Allergy infested flowers."

"It doesn't matter. Women like to feel special, and flowers pretty much always do the trick, especially on the first date."

"Yeah, right. I'll remember. Caleb will probably stop for me on the way home."

"Even better." Rodney could hear the other man's smile.

Rodney sighed again. "I need to buy a car, too."

"Will you let me help with that? I could call a few places and set up some appointments for you. I promise, I won't try to pay for it, or give you anything too fast."

"I don't need a penis extension. Just something fuel efficient. I can do it."

"I know, but you suck at any kind of vehicle. I can have a few waiting for you that are actually decent cars."

"I'm fine, Sheppard. I can do it. I think that's part of this weekend's festivities."

"All right, I'll stay out of it. You better send me pictures of what you buy though. And of this chick you're dating, if you can manage it."

"Yes yes fine. Although, I'm sure there are pictures of her on the college website. She's a professor here in the history department."

"Send me a link."

"You have fingers. Google it yourself."

"You haven't given me her name."

"Julie. Julie something." Rodney shrugged. "I'm sure you can find it."

"See, that doesn't help. You need to get me her full name."

"Well, I don't have it."

"Then your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to find out her full name on your date."

Rodney snorted. "Idiot."

"And yet, I'm an MIT student."

"Yeah. Imagine that."

Sheppard laughed.

"Any plans for the weekend?"

The other man sighed. "My father's big social event thing is this weekend. It's mandatory for me to be there, but I'm dreading it."

"You'll be fine. I'm sure there will be good food," Rodney said, googling the event in question. Everything the Sheppard's did, they did big.

"Probably, but I'll be doing more circulating than eating. This is my father's big event to schmooze people, and now I'm part of that."

"And you'll eat." Rodney poked through a few links. "If they have those bacon wrapped scallops again you have to have at least one for me."

"I'll keep an eye out. My mother planned the food."

"Ahhh. I'm told they do that. So, nothing else?"

"No. Homework, working with the horses, some work for my family, that's about it."

"Huh. Good."

Sheppard sighed. "And Dave and Charlotte decided I couldn't go to the social on my own, so they've set me up with someone."

"Oh?" Rodney said, sitting up straighter. "What do you mean?"

"Some girl they decided to set me up with. I tried to get out of it, and I'm dreading it, but there's no choice."

"Some girl?"

"Someone Charlotte knows."

Rodney tried to ignore the way his stomach was doing the weird dropping thing. "Someone Charlotte knows."

John sighed loudly. "Yeah. And they're insisting."

"Well, if they're insisting," he said, emphasizing the last word, trying to make it seem like everything was normal. But, it wasn't as if they were dating and Rodney had his own date coming up.

"I'm not really happy about it. This party is already going to suck. Being saddled with some society girl who doesn't know a quark from an atom isn't going to help matters."

"What does it matter is she doesn't know physics? It's not like you do."

"I don't know. I just like it when you push me to think harder, I guess."

Rodney snorted. "Since when? You complain and whine every time we talk about MIT and all of your homework."

The other man chuckled. "Because it's fun to get you all riled up."

"You…you…" Rodney growled. "That's unfair."

"See? Nothing like a riled-up Rodney."

"I hate you."

"No you don't."

"With the strength of ten thousand suns," Rodney said, hearing something in the hallway outside his office. "I should go. You know, finish up everything I need to do here before Caleb wanders in to drive me home."

"All right. I'll talk to you later, okay?"

"Yeah yeah sure," Rodney said as he ended the call. He shifted in this seat, trying to see out of his office door. "Hello?"

Caleb stuck his head in the door. "Hey. Ready to go?"

"Oh hey, yeah, sure. You found me."

Caleb took that as an invitation and wandered all the way in. "Not bad. They didn't give you a hole in the wall, at least."

"I guess. Meyers is an asshole."

Caleb nodded. "That's what I've heard, but manageable, I hope, for you."

Rodney shrugged. "I guess we'll see. So, you're ready to go?" Rodney gathered the papers he'd been scribbling on and the textbook he'd grabbed from the lounge. He shoved back his chair and stood, grabbing his phone.

"Yeah. And Jeannie called around today and found a dealership that seems to have good rates. If you'd like, we can go this weekend so you're not so tied to our schedules."

"Yes. I was talking to Sheppard about that before. I need a car."

"Exactly. I'm not sure what you'll be looking for, but like I said, Jeannie called around and got interest rates and stuff at all the local places. She has it all written down for you."

"Good good," he said as he followed Caleb out of the office and toward the stairway. "It looks like I'll start officially when the second summer session starts. One class."

"The summer classes are always easier. For the most part it's students who need another class or two in order to meet requirements for the fall semester."

"Or it's the stupid one who couldn't pass it the first time through," Rodney said, making a face.

"There are always those too." Caleb smiled at him.

The ride home was uneventful and as Friday rolled around, Rodney realized that he actually had to go out in public with a stranger and pretend to be interested in her. Why had he agreed to it? Oh yeah. He'd been drunk. Or buzzed. Or stupid that day.

Jeannie showed up in his room as he was getting ready, making him change all his clothes, and giving him more advice than he wanted to remember.

"This isn't the first time I've gone on a date, you know," he said, scowling at her as she held out yet another shirt. "And I do know how to dress myself."

"You've failed at going out on every date you've tried, and no, you don't know how to dress yourself like a normal person."

"You don't know that! And I've had sex before. It's not like I'm a virgin."

She rolled her eyes. "You're going on a date, and any woman worth dating doesn't have sex the first night she meets you."

Rodney glared at her—the same one he used to use with his minions—but it didn't do any good.

She glared right back. "That is why you need my help. You are not going out looking for sex. You are going out on a date to meet a woman and get to know her."

"I happen to like sex."

"Everyone likes sex, Mer. But people do not have it on the first date unless they are hookers."

Rodney scowled at her. "And how would you know that? Are you cheating on Caleb?"

She rolled her eyes. "I know that because I am a normal person."

"And I am not wearing that…" he waved his hand at the shirt Jeannie was holding out to him, "…thing."

"Yes, you are. You want to make a good impression."

Rodney scowled at her again, but an hour later when he left the house, he was dressed in the blue shirt Jeannie had forced him into.

Caleb had made reservations at a small Italian restaurant, and Jeannie had given him a bouquet of flowers with instructions to give them to his date first thing.

Rodney was early and settled into the table a little awkwardly. He hated this. His hands were sweaty. His nose was twitchy—from the flowers he assumed—but he had taken allergy medicine and had an epi pen, so he should be okay. His stomach was in knots. He had almost convinced himself to go home and forget the whole thing when the host brought a woman over to his table.

"Hi? Rodney?" She held out a hand and gave him a shy smile.

"Hi? Ahh…Julie?" he said as he shoved back his chair to stand.

"Hi!" The hostess walked away as Julie took a seat. "It's nice to meet you. Caleb told me all about you."

"Oh. Don't believe everything you hear," he said, taking a seat and sipping on his water. "Oh ah…" he picked up the flowers and thrust them at her. "These are for you."

"Those are beautiful! Thank you!" She smiled at him again. "And it was all good, I promise."

"So you're a professor?" Rodney asked with a grimace at how lame he sounded.

She nodded. "I teach advanced history. I have to hit all the highlights, but my passion is 18th Century politics."

"Politics."

She nodded again. "It's fascinating all the things that went on behind the scenes in some of the greatest courts in history. What about you? What's your passion?"

"Passion? Ah, well," Rodney shifted in his chair. "I have multiple PhDs in astrophysics and mechanical engineering."

"Really?"

"I've been employed in various positions within the government since college, most of them classified."

She leaned forward. "So you were like... a government agent? That's so sexy!"

Rodney snorted. "No. I'm a scientist. I just work on classified projects. If I told you about them, I'd have to kill you."

She giggled. "That must have been so exciting."

Rodney shrugged, feeling homesick all of a sudden. "It was a job." He took a deep breath and grabbed a menu. "So…food."

She picked up her menu and they both ordered, making small talk and exchanging bits of information. It was... weird.

Eventually their conversation moved to science fiction and television and they ended up debating the finer points of Star Trek—the original series all the way—Star Wars, Babylon 5, and Firefly. By the time they were ordering dessert and coffee, Rodney realized he'd had a good time.

As they walked out, Julie gave him a shy smile. "I had a really good time tonight."

"I…ah…yeah. Me, too. Would you be interested…in well, you know maybe dinner again, if…ah you might want to, you know…have dinner." God! He was an idiot.

She stepped in closer and leaned up to kiss his cheek. "I'd like that lot. Here's my number. Call me soon, okay?"

"Ah, right, yes, I will," he said as he watched her walk away.

As she got in her car, she waved.

He lifted his hand and waved back, still a little dumbstruck at how well the night went. He drove home in a fog, pulling into his sister's driveway a little after midnight. She, of course, was waiting up.

"So? How did it go?" She didn't even wait for him to get all the way in the front door.

"It was…" He paused for a minute, thinking of what exactly he should say. He honestly was a little bewildered. He almost felt like he was cheating on John—on Sheppard, he corrected—but it wasn't like that was going anywhere. He needed to move past that. "It was good."

She bounced and practically dragged him into the kitchen. "I want details. What did she say? How did you leave it?"

"I…we left it fine. She wants me to call her."

Jeannie beamed at him. "I knew you could do it!"

"We ate dinner! It's not that hard." He glared at her.

"Yes, but you have a bad habit of screwing up good things. So, you have her number. Tomorrow, you're going to call and tell her what a good time you had, and ask her when you can see her again."

"Tomorrow is Saturday. Shouldn't I wait like a week or something?"

"Absolutely not. Today, women don't want to play games. If you don't call the next day, you better be in the hospital or have a dead relative."

"Well, I can arrange for either of those easily enough."

She rolled her eyes. "Call her tomorrow and set up another date."

He sighed. "She said yes already."

"But did you set up a time and place? Saying you'd like to go on another date without having it set up is nothing."

"No, but she already said she'd go with me."

"It doesn't matter. You still have to call and ask her again, and then suggest a time and place. Trust me, I'm a girl. That's what she expects."

"I'm not calling her tonight."

"Did I say tonight? No I did not. I said tomorrow."

"What the fuck does it matter?" he asked, his voice rising. He was tired and unsettled and he just wanted to go to bed.

She rolled her eyes again. "It matters because, idiot, I want to see you happy with someone, and I don't want to see you screw it up because you have no idea how to date."

"I'm going to bed," he said, stomping out of the kitchen.

Jeannie didn't try to stop him, but the next morning when he got up, there was a note taped to his door that said "Call her today."

He rolled his eyes, crumpled the paper in a ball and badgered Caleb to take him to the car dealership.

Fortunately, Jeannie couldn't go because Madison had a rehearsal for one of her dance thingies. Which meant at least he didn't have to hear her yapping at him all day.

By the time Rodney hit the forth dealership, he was exhausted, annoyed, and desperate to be done already. This one was a Toyota dealership and he wanted to look at the Prius—which everyone apparently wanted to see as well.

It was a mob scene, and he had to fight his way to the attention of one of the sales guys right as he wrapped up with a family of three, including a screaming child.

"If you can get me a test drive right now I will buy one of these cars today," he said as soon as he could get his hands on the salesman. "If you don't, I should tell you that I know how to build nuclear bombs."

The guys eyebrow rose, but he was slick, and nothing seemed to faze him. "Well sir, what kind of car would you like to test? I'm sure we can do something for you."

"A Prius. Fully loaded."

The guy nodded. "We can definitely help you then. Why don't you come over here? We have a floor model you can take a look at while I get the keys to one we can test drive. Do you have a color preference?"

"Nothing obnoxious."

The guy laughed and it sounded fake. "Well let me go see what we've got on the lot. I'll be right back."

Rodney scowled at him before transferring his gaze to the crying kid and his parents who were looking at him with an expression akin to horror. "What?"

They hurried away in the other direction. Caleb, who had mostly just followed him around without talking much, chuckled. "I think the threat to blow things up unnerved them."

"They need to get used to it. It's a dog eat dog world out there," he said, watching them leave.

"The kid was like six or seven. My guess is that they're more afraid of him asking what a nuclear bomb is and having to explain it."

"Who needs explaining at that age? I knew what it was when I was five. It just took me a few years to get all the parts together," Rodney said as the salesman returned. "You have my car?"

Caleb chuckled in the background, and the salesman nodded. "I have the fully-loaded model in red, blue, and black, and I can get the keys to all three right now. Which one would you like to test?"

"The blue one. I don't want red. They get pulled over too often."

"All right then. If you'll come with me, we'll go get it and take it for a spin."

Rodney started walking, glancing over his shoulder when he realized Caleb wasn't next to him. The man was still standing by the desk. "You coming?"

"I'll wait here for you. Less distractions while you try out the car that way."

"My driving record is clean despite what Sheppard might have told you."

Caleb smiled. "I can come if you'd like me to. I just didn't know if you wanted that many people watching you drive."

"If we get into an accident I know I have nothing to fear from you. You'll find wild mushrooms and grasses and won't want to use me as a nutritional food source."

Caleb laughed again and followed him and the salesman through the crowds to the lot, where a Prius was already waiting.

The car was adequate, Rodney decided after the thirty minute test drive. Better than the other three he'd driven and the last on his list.

"Well, sir, what do you think? Can we start drawing up the paperwork?"

Rodney nodded. "Yes. But don't think you're going to get the first price you give me."

"Of course not, sir."

Rodney climbed out of the car, walking around it. He pulled his phone out and took a quick picture, sending it off to John. It was a good car. Even his tree-hugger brother-in-law liked it. Rodney could tell, he was smiling.

They all walked back in, and Rodney's phone buzzed with a new text. _Not bad._

Rodney scowled, pausing to text back. _I, unlike others, do not need a penis extension._

 _"I didn't say that!"_ He got it back almost before he had put his phone away. _It's a good car._

 _Like you would know about anything that goes less than 200 mph._

 _Ha ha ha. I do, I just choose not to drive it._

 _Adrenaline junkie._ Rodney glanced up and spotted Caleb smirking at him from a few feet away. "What?"

"Telling John about your new car?"

"I sent him the photo," Rodney said, putting his phone away. He hadn't talked to John since Friday morning.

Caleb nodded. "And you had to discuss it. Does he approve?"

Rodney shrugged, moving past him. "It doesn't go 200 mph. What do you think?"

"That he's happy he doesn't have to worry about you driving too fast?"

"I'm going to see what Moe has to say about the price," Rodney said. He felt like he was cheating on John—Sheppard—still. Even though intellectually he knew he wasn't. Maybe that's why he hadn't called.

Caleb, thankfully, let him change the subject and headed inside to haggle.

His phone range twice and vibrated three times during the negotiation. By the time Rodney settled on a price and signed all the paperwork and whatnot it was late and he was exhausted. The PowerBars he'd brought along weren't cutting it. But he'd be able to pick up his car on Monday afternoon—if everything went through okay.

When he finally checked his phone, he saw that all the missed calls and texts were from John, wanting to know more about the car and the date.

He ignored them for now, not sure what to say. Jeannie was waiting for them at the door when they pulled in the driveway, a scowl on her face.

"What happened? Why didn't you buy a car?"

"I bought a car, but they have to actually check to make sure I can actually afford it," Rodney said, stepping past her and into the house. "I should be able to pick it up on Monday."

"What? I thought those places let you drive off that day with your car?"

"Maybe in the fantasy world you live in they do, but for some reason the car companies want to make sure they'll get paid." He headed into the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge along with an apple.

"I've bought tons of cars, and not once have I left without it. Did you give them a down payment?"

"I bought the damn car and I'll pick it up Monday. End of story. I'm not going to explain each and every thing I do to you," Rodney said, pushing past his sister.

He heard her turning on Caleb to get the information she wanted.

Rodney slammed the door to his room, ending up sprawled across the bed. It took him a few minutes to work up the energy to pull out his phone and check the text messages from Sheppard.

 _I can't deny it. If it goes 200 mph, I'm there._

 _So did you get the car? And how did the date go?_

 _Rodney? Are you there?_

 _Helllllooooooooooo?_

Rodney rolled his eyes and picked up the two voice messages Sheppard had left—both asking the same questions he'd texted. What made the man think that if he didn't answer a text he was going to pick up the phone?

Rodney sighed, closing his eyes against the light of the setting sun, rubbing his forehead. His head was pounding and he had been subjected to the great unwashed of humanity for too long today.

His phone buzzed with another text. _Rodney? Everything okay? Is there some reason you're ignoring me?_

Rodney sighed and texted back. _Not everything revolves around you, you know._

 _Yes, but you usually don't ignore me. Everything go okay on the date?_

 _Dandy._

 _And? So? Therefore?_

Rodney ignored the text knowing Sheppard wouldn't leave him alone. Sometimes he was almost as bad as Jeannie. A phone call would probably be next.

And, five minutes later, his phone buzzed.

He shoved himself upright on the bed, shoving the pillows behind his back. He picked the phone up on its fourth ring. "It was fine."

"If it was fine, why are you avoiding me?"

"I'm not avoiding you."

"You haven't talked to me in days."

"I talked to you yesterday."

"You texted me yesterday."

"I talked to you before you were going into a meeting with your dad and brother."

Sheppard sighed. "I don't want to argue with you. I just.... I wanted to know how it had gone. Was she nice?"

"It was fine. She was nice. Pretty, even though her boobs could be bigger," Rodney said, rubbing his forehead. "I just spent the last eight hours dealing with car dealerships and screaming kids and annoying people. Sorry if I'm not up to my usual scintillating conversation skills."

"Did you get the Prius?"

"Yes. I'll pick it up on Monday if all the paperwork goes through okay."

"Awesome. That will help, not being dependant on having to borrow someone else's car."

"Yes. I might not feel as trapped in the house with a sister who insists on knowing every single step I make and every time I breathe." He sighed. "Sorry. It's been a long day. And the date was fine. She agreed to see me again."

"Way to go, buddy! And yeah, having the apartment with a private entrance will help. You won't be so on top of each other. When will that be done?"

"Week or two." Rodney shrugged. "It'll be done when it's done."

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Only if you have a time machine."

"I wish. That's the kind of thing I come to you for."

Rodney snorted. "Well, yeah, that's not happening anytime soon."

John sighed. "All right. I'll let you go then. Talk to you tomorrow, right?"

"Sure. I'll be around doing some kind of manual labor for Jeannie. And you have your date tomorrow night, so have fun."

"Not a date, and so not looking forward to it."

"Try and enjoy yourself. You deserve to."

"I just don't really have an interest in dating. I'd rather hang out with you and play video games and prime/not prime."

Rodney's heart seized up a little and he rubbed his sternum. Sheppard really shouldn't say things like that. "We live in two different countries. Hanging out is not in our future."

"But see, you should come visit me, and then we could."

"That's not happening for a while. Between everything going on I can't just pick up and go somewhere."

"I know. I just, you know, miss hanging out."

"I know," Rodney said. "I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"Night."

Rodney tossed his phone on the bed beside him. He was screwed, so screwed. This…thing he had for Sheppard wasn't going away. He grabbed his phone again, scrolling to find Julie's number. He dialed a few beats later.

"Hello?" Her voice was soft.

"Ah…Julie? Hi, it's Rodney McKay…ah…Rodney. You know, from last night."

"Rodney! Hi! I was hoping you would call. I had a really good time."

"Hi. You did? Oh, I mean, I did, too."

She laughed. "So, I hope this means you really do want to do it again?"

"I…yes. If you wanted to. I mean…well, yeah. If you wanted to. Do you want to?"

She laughed again. "I do want to. How about Wednesday night after the staff meeting? We could go get dinner?"

"We have a staff meeting?"

"The Chancellor called for one a few weeks ago. You probably hadn't started yet so you didn't get the memo, and your supervisor just probably forgot about it."

"Ah. I'll talk to Caleb about it. He'll probably know."

"Totally. So... want to go get dinner after that?"

"Sure, that would be great. I…do you know of a good place? I'm still pretty new to the area."

"Of course! Do you like Mexican? I know a great little place not far from the campus."

"As long as they don't cook with any lime or lemon that would be okay."

"That's right, you said you were allergic. They're really great there about requests, so I'm sure they can help you."

"Okay, then, yeah, that should be fine. Wednesday night. So…I'll just see you at the meeting, then."

"Okay. I'll see you there!"

Rodney hung up and dropped his phone on the bed beside him. She still sounded nice and into him, but part of him wished he was going to dinner with Sheppard instead. He was so screwed.

****


	2. Chapter Two

The summer moved by pretty quickly and for once in his life things seemed to be settling out. Summer school was uneventful. He failed three students, but the other thirty or so students weren't totally stupid. It was basic stuff, so he really wasn't expecting much.

Things with Julie were progressing nicely—surprisingly. He still felt weird the day or two after every date, like he was cheating on Sheppard, but it was getting easier to date. The fact that Sheppard kept talking about Andrea helped. He was moving on. He had a girlfriend. He was off limits.

Rodney just needed to stop dreaming up ways to have Andrea killed. Then everything would be a lot better.

One thing that hadn't changed was that Andrew Meyers was still an ass. Instead, he'd just gotten more overbearing and annoying. He was assigned four classes in the fall semester—all first year classes that barely got into anything remotely interesting. He'd taken it up with Meyers, who had basically told him to go and screw himself. That hadn't been a good conversation.

But since he still had another two weeks before the fall semester began, there was always time to try again.

He wandered into the science department offices, looking for Meyers. He could only find the scared, young woman he tended to make secretaries. "Meyers in?"

"Yes sir, but he doesn't want to see anyone right now."

"Why not?"

"He didn't say, sir. Just that he would be very, very angry if we let anyone get by."

"And how long ago was that?"

"Just an hour ago. Please Doctor McKay, I'll let you know when he's free again, just don't go in there."

"I'll wait right here," he said, leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. "I don't have anywhere to be until three."

She fidgeted a bit, but nodded. That seemed to be a compromise that didn't terrify her. Where did Meyers find these girls?

"How many of you are there?"

"How many of what, sir?"

"Girls. Secretaries. Whatever you are," he said waving his hand at her. "I've only seen you twice and I've been here for weeks. It seems like there's always someone new in the chair."

"Oh." She looked down at the desk. "There are about ten of us, and we work when Professor Meyers tells us to."

"You're all science majors?"

"Yes sir."

"What's your specialization?"

She swallowed, seeming uncomfortable with the questions. "Right now I'm trying to get all my requirements out of the way. I'm hoping to get a good recommendation from Professor Meyers so I can get into a good program for physics."

"Are you in any of my classes in the fall?"

She shook her head. "I tried to sign up for all of them, but Professor Meyers won't allow us to take classes with anyone but him."

Rodney raised an eyebrow. "He can't do that and my classes don't require a prerequisite. If you want to take my classes so and make your schedule with your guidance counselor or whatever the hell they call them here."

She shook her head. "I can't. I... If I want to get that recommendation, I can't. And I need it. My family doesn't come from any kind of academia, but I want to get into a good program. I can't do that without Professor Meyers' letter."

"My letter of recommendation can get you in any college in Canada or the States. Trust me. I have more clout than Meyers where it counts."

She fidgeted. "I'll…I'll think about it. He wouldn't be very happy if I left his classes."

"You have to do what's best for you," Rodney said, straightening up as the door opened and a slightly rumpled girl ran out.

She sniffed as she watched the other girl flee. Quietly, she sighed. "I don't even think I know anymore, sir."

"Well, figure it out soon or you'll screw up the rest of your life," Rodney said as he walked to Meyers' office.

There was a very... peculiar smell wafting through the room, but it was faint. Meyers glared at him. "What do you want?"

"To talk about the fall semester."

"We've already talked about it."

"No, we didn't. You ran off before we even got started. I'm not that easy to put off."

Meyers rolled his eyes. "You're new. You haven't even taught a year yet. That means you don't get any of the good classes. You have to pay your dues first. That's the way education works, McKay."

"And? Therefore? I'm overqualified for the job and you know it. I want one advanced class in physics. That's all I'm asking."

"No."

Rodney crossed his arms over his chest. "Yes."

"No. Those are mine, and I'm not giving any of them up. You don't like it, you know where the door is."

"One advanced class. Add another to the listing so I'm not taking one of yours. I'll do five classes for the fall. Same pay. But the advanced class is my choice."

Meyers gave him a long look. "I'm not paying you any more for it, or giving you any additional resources. And if I find out you're paying more attention to that one than your other classes, I'll cut it in a heartbeat."

"You'll be hands off?"

"As long as I don't get any complaints or get asked for money."

"If I need anything I'll get grants. I know how to do that."

"Fine. I'll add it to the roster. Now get out of my office."

"Thanks for your help," he said, throwing the words over his shoulder as he left. The girl he'd talked to before was huddled in her chair, watching him with wide eyes as he walked out.

Now, he just had to figure out what he wanted to teach.

After much thought, consideration, and contemplation, he settled on advanced astrophysics. There were some journal articles that weren't horrible he could reference. Some text books. He'd have to remember what things he could actually talk about. Some of the discussions about string theory and time and space and dimensions might be fun. Wormholes, of course. All basic stuff. He'd see what came out of it.

He ended up giving a pop quiz in his afternoon science class which gave him more time to think.

By the end of the day, he had written up a description to be put in the course catalog for the year and sent it over to Meyers.

It was a late addition, but there was still time. Besides, he could change his mind on the course by the time the semester actually rolled around.

By the time he made it home—to his newly finished basement apartment—he was feeling pretty good.

And then the piano practicing started.

At least downstairs it was somewhat muffled.

Staring up at the ceiling from his used couch Jeannie had found somewhere—he really didn't want to know—he took a deep breath and dialed Julie's number.

She picked up on the second ring. "Hello?"

"Hey. It's Rodney."

"Hi Rodney!"

"Hey, I know it's last minute, but the brat is practicing above my head. Do you want to grab some dinner or something?"

"God, yes. I'm in the middle of trying to finalize my syllabus for the fall semester since my director is requiring them this week, and I could use a break. Where do you want to meet?"

"Italian? I'm in the mood for pizza."

"Sounds great. Want to meet at Tony's?"

"Great. I'll be there in about fifteen minutes."

"See you there!" She hung up.

He climbed to his feet and headed upstairs into the house. Jeannie spotted him as soon as he walked up from the basement.

"Where are you off to?"

"Dinner," he said, pointing at the front door. "I'm meeting Julie."

"Oh. Okay. I'll see you later then!"

He looked at her for a long moment before turning and heading out the door. She'd been…weird lately. She kept watching him when he was home when she didn't think he was looking. But after Atlantis, he had a sixth sense for that kind of thing.

He wasn't sure what she was up to, but for now, he wasn't going to worry about it. He had a date.

Julie was already there when he arrived, snagging a booth in the back where he liked it. "Hey."

She smiled and immediately leaned in to give him a kiss on the cheek. "Hey yourself. Good idea to come to dinner tonight. I didn't realize how much I needed to get out."

"I couldn't take the piano practice tonight. I finally convinced Meyers to give me the class I wanted."

"You did? Wonderful! What did he give you?" They sat down in the booth and both started looking at the menu as they chatted.

"I agreed to take on an extra class—without pay—so I wouldn't want to kill myself by October. It's my choice. He has no say, so I'm doing an advanced astrophysics course."

"Wow! I don't think our school has ever offered anything like that. It will be really interesting to see what kind of response it gets."

"We'll see. So…does your department head permit his students to take any classes they want?"

"Of course. Students choose to take whatever they want. We guide them based on what they want to do with their degree, but we don't force them to take anything. Why?"

"Yeah. Meyers forces them to do certain classes."

She blinked. "Really? I've heard rumors about that, but I didn't know they were true."

"I was talking to one of the girls who are in his office as his secretary this afternoon. She said he only allowed her to take his classes."

"Huh." Julie scratched her chin. "There have been rumors about Meyers for as long as I can remember, but no one has ever confirmed them. One of them is that he hand-picks a set of students out of each incoming fall group that work in his office and take all his classes. In exchange, the rumor goes that he gets them into some of the best schools in the country."

"That's what she said. There are ten of them working there. But I have yet to figure out what they do. They guard his door, but that's about it."

"Huh. I have no idea. I've never worked with him, so all I've heard are those rumors. But there are rumors about pretty much everyone on campus, so I tend to just ignore them."

"True," he said with a shrug, his eyes sliding over the menu. He knew what he wanted. Meat and pizza. "It's just…wonky. Something's up."

"Keep your eyes open. Maybe it will make sense after a few months. I do know Meyers is a little odd, so he might just take some getting used to."

"Odd?" Rodney snorted, rolling his eyes. "He's an asshole, and trust me, I know assholes."

She tittered. "Oh, Rodney."

"What? It's the truth. I was a bastard to everyone who worked for me before. But he's just..." He shook his head. "This is more angry and mean and…I don't know. Maybe he's just compensating for a lack of a dick, although he is quite the dick so I'm not sure that really applies."

She blushed. "Oh my."

"What? And what's with the…" his hand waved. "The blushing thing. You didn't do that last time I saw you."

She giggled. "I'm not used to that kind of language. It doesn't bother me, but I don't hear it very often."

Rodney rolled his eyes as the waitress approached. "Get used to it. I worked with the military." He turned to the waitress. "I want a personal pizza, the meat lovers supreme. Extra cheese. And a beer. Molson."

She nodded. "And for you honey?"

He stared at Julie as she tried to make up her mind.

"Okay. Mushrooms and black olives. And a Diet Coke, please."

Rodney waited until the waitress left. "You have an issue with me cursing?"

"No. I just wasn't expecting it. Is the military really as bad about that as the movies make it seem?"

"Worse in some cases. Scientists even more so. I think I can curse in ten languages."

She giggled. "You'll have to teach me some of it."

"I don't use it all that often. It's just…sometimes it really does describe someone better." Rodney shrugged. "So…are you finished with your class schedule?"

"Yeah. We had to have those in last week, and all the planners in this week. It's a pain, but it means I'll have a few weeks of summer to enjoy before the fall term starts. How about you?"

"Meyers did most of it, so it wasn't hard. I'll do the stuff for the new class on the fly."

She leaned forward a little and he could see some cleavage. "What kinds of things do you think you want to cover?"

He shrugged, his eyes focused on her chest. "String theory. Other…stuff."

She took a deep breath. "What kinds of stuff?"

"Ah…the usual." He blinked dragging his eyes up to hers. She was smirking at him. "Ah…yeah. Sorry about that. You were…flashing them…"

She laughed but sat back. "Sorry."

"It's been a while and that was just a lot of skin…" Rodney shook himself. He couldn't believe he just said that. "Sorry sorry. Apparently the piano playing of doom has seeped into by brain."

She laughed again. "That's okay. It's actually kind of nice to feel pretty enough to derail a person like you for even a moment."

Rodney ducked his head, feeling his cheeks heat. "So…fall semester," he said, getting the conversation back on target. They spent the rest of the evening chatting about school and work, before finally heading home around nine.

It was true that Julie's breasts had distracted him—they were rather nice breasts—but it had been more of a "wow, haven't seen those in a while" rather than a "I want to touch them". Julie was nice, but she was no John Sheppard.

After that revelation hit, Rodney smacked his head into the steering wheel of his car several times while sitting at a traffic light. He had to get past this. Maybe sex would help. He hadn't actually considered working up to that yet. It was almost September. They'd been seeing each other since June. Maybe it was time to get back in the saddle, so to speak.

Maybe.

As he pulled up to the house, he saw the lights were still on, meaning Jeannie and Caleb were still awake.

The brat was probably asleep—a small victory at least. He headed in, his thoughts turning back to Meyers and some of the weird stuff he was observing.

He noticed Caleb sitting in the living room, Jeannie not there for once. She was probably off doing something. His sister could never sit still for long.

"Hey," he said quietly, closing and locking the door behind him. "Where's Jeannie?"

Caleb glanced over and smiled. "Upstairs. Maddie had a bad dream, so she's reading her back to sleep."

"Ah," Rodney said, dumping his keys in the bowl by the door. "I'm going to grab a beer, you want one?"

"Sure."

Rodney grabbed two Molsons from the fridge, handing one to Caleb before he slumped down in the chair across from the couch. "So…I know I'm still new at this whole college professor thing, so that might be the issue, but have you heard anything…weird about the science department?"

Caleb opened his beer and glanced over. "How do you mean?"

"Today I was talking to one of the students. She does the secretary thing for the department. Well, for Meyers mainly. She said that she had to get all her classes approved by him."

Caleb looked startled. "Approved by him? We all have students we advise, but ultimately they pick and choose which classes they take."

Rodney was quiet for a moment, going over what she'd told him. "No…that's not what she said. She said he approves their classes—the ones who work in his office. At the end, he'll give them a letter to a fantastic college. It just…something's not right."

Caleb shook his head. "That would be like a form of blackmail if it were true. I can't imagine Meyers would risk everything like that. I know there are rumors about him, but..."

"What rumors? Julie mentioned some too, but no one will really tell me."

"Well, he always has a set of some of the most attractive females in the department working for him. People make up a lot of stories to explain that, some more wild than others."

"Sex?"

"Sex, blackmail, the usual stuff."

Rodney thought for a minute, thinking back to what he'd seen, what he'd smelled. "It might be true."

Caleb was silent for a few moments. "If it is, you'll need strong proof of it. Meyers has a lot of ears on the school's advisory board, and if the sex rumors end up being true, then the rumors he's bribed them to look the other way where he's involved might be true as well."

"One of the girls came out of his office very rumpled today and when I walked in there was a distinct…odor."

Caleb shook his head. "That's not enough. If it's true, and the bribe rumors are true, you would need something so irrefutable that the college reputation would suffer in a major way if they just ignored it. Probably photographic evidence, and at least one if not more of the girls coming forward. But the rumors have persisted for years and no one ever has."

"I'm not like everyone else," Rodney said, taking another sip of his beer.

"Just be careful. If you do decide to try and find out the truth, it could backfire on you. My only advice would be to take it slowly."

"I know, I know. It's just…" He sighed. "That girl was so defeated. She should be passionate about what she wants. It's college not the end of the world."

Caleb reached over and patted his leg. "I'm not saying not to pursue this. If it turns out to be true, he needs to be stopped before he hurts anyone else. Just be careful. There are a lot of rumors about Meyers, and if one ends up being right, the rest might be too. And some of them paint him to be pretty ruthless."

"I've faced worse."

Caleb nodded. "I can imagine."

"Okay," Rodney said, shoving himself to his feet. "I'm heading downstairs. Have a good night."

"You, too." Caleb saluted him with his beer.

Rodney spent the next four hours on his computer, digging into anything and everything he could find about Andy Meyers.

He didn't like what he found.

It would take more time, he knew, before Rodney could prove anything. He needed to be patient. But even just in the few searches he'd done, Rodney realized that Meyers was the one who had blocked the addition of new lab equipment. The money had been funneled into other areas and simply forgotten, eventually disappearing. He wouldn't be surprised to find out that Meyers had been using it for himself.

He was bad news, and had been using the college science department as his own personal playground since he took it over.

Right now, though, all he could do was wait and watch. And he was far more patient than anyone gave him credit for.

****

School started a few weeks later and for the first two weeks Rodney swore he was trapped in some kind of nightmare. There were students everywhere. Most of them were dumber than a doorpost—and that was even giving them too much credit.

A few of his students seemed to be marginally intelligent—including the one girl he'd talked to in Meyer's office. Her name was Ashley and she was from Nova Scotia originally. How she ended up in a Toronto community college was another matter entirely—and one she had not shared any information on. The only other thing he knew about her was that she was a sophomore and had spent the last year working for Meyers.

Two boys—Mark and Matthew—seemed to get some of the basic principles, too, and the three of them usually ended up in his office at least once a week asking questions.

He was slowly trying to get Ashley to open up about what Meyers had going on, but while she would light up when talking about science, she immediately closed down again whenever the department head came up in conversation.

His advanced class was sparsely attended. He only had ten students sign up and three ended up dropping out within the first week. At least the class was easy and the students weren't total idiots.

Word was already spreading that he was a tough teacher, but that he had a lot to share. Already, a few kids had approached him to ask for some prep work they could do now to be ready to take his advanced class in the spring.

He wasn't sure if he liked it or not—this teaching thing. But it did pay him money and gave him something to do—apart from work his way through the Atlantis database. He'd been concentrating on ZPM research, of course, and the classes were a nice break from the intensity he usually had at night before bed.

He still talked to Sheppard every day, usually more than once if you counted the constant stream of texts. The idiot kept insisting he and the Andrea chick weren't dating, but lately, she came up in almost every conversation.

Andrea this. Andrea that. Andrea and I did this. She said that.

Rodney wanted to strangle him sometimes, but he'd embarked on his own mission. Mission: Distraction. Julie was his current target and things were progressing nicely. He hoped they'd finally get to the actual sex part of their relationship within the next month—if things went according to plan.

The fact that it was a certain unruly shock of dark hair haunting his dreams and fantasies instead of Julie's blond locks was something he chose to try and ignore.

He finished grading one of the pop quizzes he'd given to his early morning class, glancing up to catch Ashley wandering into his office, aiming for the small, used couch he'd found. "Hey. What are you doing here?"

She shrugged. "Professor Meyers is having a bad day, so I thought I'd ride it out here. Plus, I had some questions for you about the assignment this week."

"A bad day? You need to be more specific. Because, honestly, I think every day is a bad day for him."

She shook her head. "It's not a big deal, I just didn't want to be over there."

"What's going on? Did he yell at you again? Did he make you uncomfortable?"

She wouldn't meet his eyes. "Could you go over these equations with me again? I think I have them, but I want to be sure."

"Ashley," he said quietly, waiting until she looked up. "I'm not going to force you to do anything you don't want to do, but I think you need to tell me what's going on. I think you know you need to tell me, too."

Fear flashed in her eyes. "I can't."

"Why? Give me a good reason and I won't ask you about it again. But it has to be good." He sat back in his chair.

He saw her swallow hard. "He'd... he'll ruin me. He's done it before. She had to change to an English major and barely found a school that would let her finish her BA."

"Ashley, I worked for the government. I know how to fire a gun. Meyers can't hurt me. Let me help you."

She licked her lips and looked away. "I'm too afraid of him and what he could do."

Rodney sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "Can he really do worse than he's already done to you?" he asked quietly. If he was right, Meyers was raping them—or at the very least forcing them to have sex with him.

"I don't know, and that's why..." She sighed. "If I tell you, you can't tell anyone else, especially him, that I did."

"Do you really think I'm going to run to him and tell him?" Rodney asked with a snort. "You've known me for a few months now. Am I the type to do that?"

"No, but..." She sighed.

"Do you think it's just going to go away if you ignore it?"

"It's only for another two years, but..." She took a deep breath. "Remember, you promised you wouldn't tell anyone I told you this. He'd kill me. When one of us that he decides he wants enrolls in the college, he approaches us. For me, he said he noticed my major, and would like to help me out since it's something he's interested in and he wanted to see me get ahead. I've talked to some of the other girls, and no matter what the focus is, he always says something like that."

Rodney nodded, leaning forward. His stomach was clenching with anger, but he held it in check. He needed to know what the bastard was doing.

She continued, still refusing to meet his eyes. "At first, it's really flattering. It's the head of the department taking a personal interest in your career, helping you choose the right classes. Then, a few weeks in to that first semester, he tells you that you show a lot of promise, more than he's seen before. That, if you work hard enough, he'll write you a letter to one of the prestigious schools, can get you in anywhere you want to go."

"What's the cost?"

"At first, nothing. Eventually, he asks if you'll come work in his office. That way, he can help you more and be there if there's a problem."

"That's easy, right? Working there. Taking messages."

"Exactly." She gave him a weak smile then went back to staring at the carpet. "Once you get settled in, it seems to happen the same way for all of us. Something comes up, and he says he hates to impose, but would we mind accompanying him? He needs to have someone there, and the person who was supposed to go cancels or something."

"Accompanying him where?"

"It varies. For me, it was to a dinner someone was giving. I never asked what it was for, but he gave me a really beautiful dress to wear for it. At the time, I didn't really stop to think about why he had a dress already there ready to go if this was a last-minute thing, or why it was so... revealing."

"A dress. Isn't he married?"

She nodded. "I've never met his wife, but I've talked to her a few times on the phone."

"What happened after the dinner, Ashley?"

She wrapped her arms around herself. "As we were leaving, he tripped and spilled stuff all down the dress. He kept apologizing, but it was cold and wet outside, so he said his apartment he keeps for times when he doesn't want to keep his wife up late with work was just around the corner. He said he'd take me there, get me something dry to wear, and then take me back to my car."

"You went."

"Yes. I was... starting to feel a little lightheaded, and thought maybe if I sat down and got warm, it would be better."

"Did he drug you?"

"I don't know. We got to his apartment and I went into the bathroom to strip out of the dress. He gave me this huge robe to wear and sat me on the couch with a cup of tea. I was having trouble with my balance, so he told me if I needed to sleep on the couch that night, I could, and that I had probably had too much wine."

Rodney stilled, watching her. "Did he…"

"I don't remember much after that. I woke up the next morning in his bed, and we were both naked and I could... tell we had had sex. He said I begged him for it, that I jumped him and he kept protesting but I insisted."

"And he blackmailed you to continue after that."

"He said what I had done was rape, because I had forced myself on him. But since I was such a good student, and showed such promise, he was willing to let this all slide. I left confused, but thinking it was all over. Two days later, he called me into his office and said he had reconsidered, and that he was sorry but he was going to call the police." She started to cry. "I begged him not to do that, asked if there was anything I could do to change his mind. He said that the only way we could be... even... was if I let him do to me what I had done to him."

Crap. She was crying. He got up and closed the door before he carefully sat down on the edge of the couch next to her. "What…" He paused, starting again. "How did you manage to take my classes?"

She sniffled. "I didn't ask, I just enrolled, and by the time he found out, he couldn't withdraw me without causing a stir. After that second time, he called me back into his office and he was.... different. Meaner. Colder. He said sleeping with a professor to get good grades doesn't go over well in the science community. I told him that wasn't what happened, and he said who would people believe, me or him? I'm just a nobody, but he's got all these connections. He said if I continued to do what he wanted me to do, he wouldn't tell anyone that I was a no-talent slut trying to sleep my way to a degree, and he would still give me a letter of recommendation when I was done here."

"Ashley?"

She was sobbing now.

"Ashley, look at me, please."

She managed to raise her head. Meyers had put such misery and fear into this girl. All the terrified girls running around his office.

"Do you get paid to work for Meyers as his secretary?"

She shook her head no.

"Would you like to work for me? No strings attached. I'll even see if I can get you a stipend of sorts."

She sniffed. "Yes, but he won't let me go. He'll tell everyone I'm a slut, and make sure I can never get a job in science. He won't allow any of us to leave him."

"Let me take care of it."

"Since this all started, I've been so afraid... Please Professor McKay, if you can help..."

He nodded. "Consider it done. This week, I want you to do your classes like you normally do. Work the hours you need to, but don't be alone with him if you can't help it. Okay?"

She nodded. "He's pretty much lost interest in me since he acquired Sarah. Once he gets a new girl, the rest of us are safe for a little while at least."

"Is she the one who ran out of his office back in August? Or is it another one?"

"Another one. That was Stephanie."

"Okay. Then I want you to keep a low profile. Don't do anything to bring attention to yourself. Okay? I'll take care of the rest."

She nodded again.

"Good, good," he said with his own nod. "Now, what's this about you not understanding the equations?"

She took a deep breath, wiped at her face, and then pulled out her notebook. "I think I have these down, but I want to be sure before I go any further."

"Okay, let's look them over," he said taken the notebook from her. They ended up discussing—or arguing as Sheppard would have said—about them until his next class.

He needed to get her out from under Meyers' thumb without him realizing it. That was going to take a careful hand, but it more or less fell into his lap two days later. Meyers' was ranting about something during their monthly meeting and it just seemed like a perfect time to bring it up.

"I need a TA," Rodney said, when Meyers took a breath.

The man looked over at him. "What?"

"I said I need a TA. And what's even better is that I found a loophole in the system that will give a small stipend from the university budget for teaching assistants—if you word the request right."

Meyers narrowed his eyes.

"It wouldn't come out of your budget and it would make me more productive. I have a few grant proposals I want to submit, too. I need someone that's not entirely stupid to type them up and submit them."

"I take it you have someone in mind."

"Yes. Sarah. She seems competent."

Meyers actually turned an interesting shade of red. "No."

"Well, I don't know who else in your office is remotely competent. Who do you suggest?"

"Is there a reason you're trying to steal my assistants?"

"I want one. You have fifteen. I don't have the time to break in a new girl. I need someone who can intelligently fill out the grant forms and actually help me. It'll also help to put this program on the map if we can get them."

"You can't have Sarah."

"Then who can I have?" he asked, folding his arms over his chest.

Meyers was giving him suspicious looks. "I don't know. I don't want to lose any of my help."

"You wanted my help to get this college national recognition. I'm trying to do that, but I won't be able to without help. One girl. That's all I'm asking for."

"Fine. Give me a name."

"I said Sarah already."

"And I said you can't have her. Pick another one."

"I don't know. One of the blondes."

Meyers huffed. "Fine." His eyes narrowed again. "Why don't you take Ashley, since she's already in one of your classes?"

"Who? And do I even want her? Is she any good?"

"It doesn't matter, she's who you're getting."

"Wait," Rodney said, leaning forward in his chair. "Don't I get a say in this?"

"No. You wanted a TA, and that's who you're getting."

"Fine," Rodney grumbled, cheering inside.

"Now, does anyone else have anything they want to bring up?" He glared around the room, and the other teachers cowered.

They finished up their meeting and Rodney headed to his office. Mark, Matthew, and Ashley were there working on homework.

They all looked up as he entered. Mark and Matthew with eager expressions, Ashley's with a certain amount of trepidation.

"Apparently, I have a new TA. Ashley congratulations. Now, get me some coffee."

Her eyes widened. "Really?"

"Professor Meyers suggested it."

If anything her eyes got wider.

"And I don't want to hear you whining about the work I give you. There's a stipend with this position, so no whining and no crying."

She stood up and practically threw herself at him, her arms wrapping around him in a huge hug. "Thank you. Thank you so much!"

"Why are you thanking me," he asked as he tried to get himself untangled. "It's going to be a lot of work."

"Thank you. Thank you."

"And I thought I asked you for coffee," he said with a smirk.

She nodded, and tears in her eyes—the good kind this time—and a huge smile on her face, she went looking for coffee.

He aimed a glare at the two boys. "And don't you get any ideas that I'm easygoing."

They were completely bewildered, but they immediately went back to their books, working twice as hard.

When Ashley came back, he got her started on the three grant programs he'd been eyeing and went off to do his afternoon class. He was…pleased it had worked out so far, but there were countless others who Meyers was blackmailing and screwing. That needed to stop.

One down. Hundreds to go.

****

Mission: Distraction was a go.

Julie had invited him over to her house for dinner Sunday night. They'd already gotten up to necking and a little fooling around. But tonight was "the night". He could tell.

She was dressed in more provocative clothes than he had seen her in yet, and there were candles lit all over the house.

He was so ready to get laid.

She had made a really nice dinner, completely citrus free. They finished eating, and then moved to the living room, where she brought out two glasses of wine and some strawberries.

"So, this is nice," he said, settling in on the couch.

"Yes." She scooted closer to him.

"And dinner was fantastic."

"Rodney."

"Yeah?" he said, leaning in.

"Stop stalling." She leaned in and captured his mouth.

He kissed her back, his hand cupping the side of her face. This was familiar. This was nice. They were really good at kissing. Really good.

Her hand slid up his side, pushing aside his shirt to get to skin.

"Oh, hey," he said, breaking off from the kiss.

"Hmmm?"

"Are you…you know…"

"Am I what?" She played with the buttons on his shirt.

"Do we want to do this here or somewhere we have more room?" he asked, a little breathlessly, trying desperately to remind himself that this was what he wanted.

"Why don't we go into the bedroom?"

"You have one of those?"

"Of course." She smiled and stood up, holding out a hand to him.

He looked up at her and after a moment's pause, took her hand. Wow. She was pretty. She really wanted him. Why wasn't he more…excited about the prospect?

She led him back to the bedroom, which was very... pink. And girly.

It may have been worse than Madison's room.

She began stripping, laying each article of clothing in a frilly chair in the corner. She glanced over at him. "Well?"

"You're pretty." He blinked. "And naked. Well…mostly naked."

"And you're still dressed, handsome. Why don't we fix that?"

"Ah. You're right. Very observant for a history professor," he said as she approached him.

She began unbuttoning his shirt again.

He let her pull it out of his pants and tug it off his body, tossing it toward the chair, but missing by a mile. The undershirt came next. He shivered as her cold hands drifted over his nipples. "Hey…watch where you put those ice cubes."

She chuckled. "Why don't you heat them up for me?"

"I thought you were trying to get me caught up to you."

"We can have a little fun along the way."

"We can?" He paused at her look. "Oh, of course we can. I just thought you had plans and whatnot."

"This is my plan."

"Oh." Rodney paused. "And what plan was that?"

"Get you naked."

"Oh. We can do that. We're kind of half there."

"Exactly." She gave him a sexy look and went back to undressing him.

It was right when she was pulling his boxers off that he realized that he was soft. There wasn't even a centimeter of hard in his dick. That could be an issue. He chuckled a little nervously. "Ah…yeah…sorry. It's been a really long time and I might be a bit nervous…"

"We can work on that." She smiled and took him in hand, fondling him.

"Careful! That's…just careful," he said. "That's very delicate machinery."

She went down to her knees and took him in her mouth.

Instead of it being sexy and every man's dream to have a woman go down on him, it just…wasn't. "Hey…let's…you know, work up to that," he said, reaching down to pull her up. "We have a bed and all night. No need to go fast."

She pulled off and looked up at him. "Okay, I've never known a man who didn't like blow jobs."

"I do, but you weren't doing it right. Can we just move onto the bed now?"

"Not doing it right." She stood up. "Are you even interested in sex?"

"Of course I am! All guys are interested in sex and last time I checked, I'm a guy. I'm just…it's been a long time since I've been in a relationship or had sex so…"

"So you should be raring to go, and instead you're doing everything to avoid being touched."

"I'm nervous, all right," Rodney said with a huff, moving away. "Not every guy is just raring to go. I'm not just any guy."

"Fine." She took a deep breath. "Let's take it a little slower then. Why don't you come over here and touch me?"

"Do we want to try the bed?" he asked, his thumb pointing to the pink glitterly flat surface across the room. "You know I have a bad back and all and it might be easier to put us in the mood."

She nodded, walking over and climbing up, gesturing for him to follow.

Rodney made his way over to the bed, settling down on the edge and nearly getting swallowed up by the mattress and bedding. "Wow…oh…wow…this is a soft bed."

She made a frustrated sound. "Hello? Naked woman here."

"I think your bed is trying to eat me. Hang on," he said, managing to get himself on the bed and settled on his side facing her. It was a struggle, however.

"You know what, I think the mood is gone."

"Hey, no, don't do that. We can get it back. Come on," he said, grabbing her hand. "Just…relax."

"I'm thinking you're a little too relaxed." She frowned at him. "Is it me? Do you just not find me attractive?"

"You're very attractive!" Rodney said. "You have breasts—which are smaller than I thought they were. Huh. Bras and shirts make breasts look different, don't they?"

Her frown turned to a glare. "You know what, you're just trying to find an excuse for why you can't get it up."

"I already told you I was nervous! I like breasts! I like women! I like you. Can we just…move on to the sex?"

"I'm pretty sure that particular activity is off the table." She crawled out of the bed. "You aren't even the least be aroused, are you?"

"Not with you yelling at me no. I don't find that attractive at all," he said as he tried to get out of the bed, but ended up flailing his arms. The bed was trying to smother him. Who slept in beds like this with absolutely no back support?

"You were soft even before I got pissed. Can you even get it up at all?"

'Of course I can!" he huffed, finally managing to get to the edge of the bed. "Can we just…get back to where we were and stop arguing?"

"I don't think so."

"You don't think so? What do you mean you don't think so?" Rodney asked, knowing his voice was getting higher. He stood, taking a few steps toward her. "This is absolutely preposterous. We're both here. We're both naked. We should have sex like you planned."

She glared at him. "Kind of hard to have sex with a soft dick."

"I said we could work up to it! Do you not listen?"

She shook her head. "I think you should get dressed and go."

"Wait. No." He stepped forward, grabbing her hand. "Come on. Let's just try again."

She pulled away. "Prove it to me that it's just nerves then. Touch yourself, get hard."

"It's not as easy as that! I can't just do things on command."

"You couldn't do them when we had been having foreplay for a half-hour!"

"I was nervous!"

"You keep saying that."

"I was on a classified military base before I moved here. There's not exactly a lot of opportunities to have sex. It's been a while, okay?"

"That means you should be up and raring to go, not have your dick hiding like it's afraid I might actually try to touch it."

"No, it means I haven't had the opportunity to please a woman sexually in years and I'm a little out of practice."

"Out of practice or just not interested?" She shook her head. "Rodney, I think you need to go. You're not going to be able to perform and we're both just getting angry."

"Julie, come on. Don't do this."

"I'm not the one who was necking and doing all the foreplay to sex but wasn't even the least bit aroused by it."

"Come on, Julie. Just…let's go back to the bed and let me make you feel good."

She eyed him. "One more chance, Rodney. I don't even know if we can recapture the mood at this point."

"Let's just start with kissing and then I'll make you feel good. I promise."

"What about you? You're going to touch me, and you know you won't feel anything, don't you?"

Rodney sighed. "Can we just concentrate on you, right now?"

"I want a mutual thing, Rodney. Not just to be... serviced... by someone who isn't interested in me. I don't want your pity."

"This isn't pity, Julie. I'm trying here," he said with a sigh. "Just give me the chance."

She sighed. "All right. One more chance, Rodney."

He held out his hand to her. Waiting.

She was hesitant, but finally came closer.

He stepped closer and slowly cupped the side of her face, watching her carefully as he leaned in to press a kiss to her lips.

She finally opened up to him, letting him slowly lead her back to the bed.

She let him lead, let him kiss her, touch her, and slowly she melted under his hands, giving up small moans and sounds as he aroused her. He worked his way down her body until he was sprawled between her legs, opening her up to his clever fingers and pulling deeper moans and shudders from her body. He leaned in and tongued her—lightly and carefully—trying not to spoil the mood by gagging.

She spread her legs and let him touch her.

Taking a deep breath, he dove in, licking and sucking and pulling moans and groans from her.

"Rodney..." She moaned his name.

She came to a shuddering climax moments later and he backed off, letting her settle before starting again, this time with his fingers. He stroked her with one hand while slowly pushing a finger of other hand into her, feeling her clench around him.

"Oh, yeah... Rodney... Want you inside me..."

Rodney pushed two fingers inside her, stroking her inside and out.

Her eyes opened, pleasure filling them. She started to reach for his cock.

"I'm good. Just enjoy this. Want to see you again."

Some of her pleasure began to clear. "Are you--"

"Taken care of….shhh," he said, leaning down once again to suck and tongue her.

She moaned, her train of thought derailed.

He got her to climax two more times before she finally begged him to leave her alone. He slid up next to her, holding her as she came down from her high.

"Mmmm. That was... amazing. When I recover, I'll do you."

"I'm good. I'm glad you enjoyed it."

She looked around. "You're still not aroused, are you?"

"Just relax, Julie. We're good."

She sat up a little. "Rodney... All that, and you're still soft. Not even a little hard."

"Don't worry about me. I'm fine. I wanted you to enjoy yourself. After all you did tonight, you deserved it."

She sighed. "But the fact that you didn't even find all of that arousing really bothers me."

"Did you enjoy what I did or not?"

"Yes, but I like touching, too. You made me feel good, but if you feel nothing about it, it... cheapens it. Do you have any feelings for me at all?"

"I do," he said. "I really like you." But not enough and not that way, he added in his head.

"But you don't find me attractive in the slightest."

"I do! Do we need to discuss this now? Shouldn't you be enjoying your afterglow?"

She pulled away from him, sitting up. "No, Rodney, you don't." She waved to his crotch—which hadn't shown even the slightest level of interest. "You can't blame that on nerves anymore."

"Why are you so fixated on my cock? You should be thrilled that I went down on you like a pro! Most guys don't do that."

"Because your cock says you did it out of a sense of obligation, not because you really wanted to."

"I don't do anything I don't want to do," he said with a sniff. "You should know that by now."

"I really think you need to go now, Rodney. I'm sorry."

"Julie, come on. Don't do this," he said as she got up, walking over to her closet and pulling on a robe.

"Don't do what? Be insulted that I just let a man touch me who has no physical interest in me whatsoever. I feel...cheap, Rodney."

He sighed and climbed out of the bed, managing to do it without ending up on his ass. "Look. I'll go now. We can talk about it tomorrow. How about dinner at Tony's?"

She shook her head. "Right now, I need to think. I don't want to be with someone who doesn't want me."

"Were you not listening? Did the multiple orgasms make you dumb or hard of hearing? I said I like you. I don't do anything I don't want to do."

"But you don't want to do me. That's the problem." She shook her head. "I want to be with someone who can fuck me, Rodney. Orgasms are nice, but I want the intimacy, too. I want to be with someone I have a future with. If you can't even get half-hard naked and going down on me, what does that say?"

"This was just one time. You can judge a whole relationship on a few hours."

"I need to think."

"Julie, come on. There's nothing to think about," he said, moving toward her, reaching for her hand.

She moved away. "Yes, there is. You just don't get it, do you? You didn't have even the slightest physical reaction to what we just did. None. If anything, your dick tried to hide from it."

"You're being an idiot about this."

Her gaze hardened. "Please leave. Now."

"Julie—"

"Now."

Rodney scowled at her, but moved around the room, finding his clothes. He pulled on his boxers. "You're making a mistake."

"Just... just leave Rodney."

"So that's it?" he asked as he pulled on his undershirt. He grabbed his pants next.

"I don't know."

"What do you mean you don't know? You had three screaming orgasms and that's not enough."

"Orgasms aren't everything, Rodney."

"See! That's my point," he said, waving his hand at her. "So what if I didn't have one? What's the problem? You enjoyed yourself. I was willing and more than able to make you feel good and to cuddle with you afterward."

She shook her head. "Because they aren't."

He pulled on his pants and went hunting for his socks and shoes, pulling on his button down shirt as he walked into the living room. When he finally got himself together, he moved to where Julie was standing. He leaned in to give her a kiss, but she drew back.

"I... Right now I don't know if we have a future together, Rodney. I want long-term. I want marriage and kids. And I don't think you do."

"You don't know that."

"Right now I don't know what to think."

He leaned in for another kiss.

She put a hand on his chest to stop him.

"Julie, don't do this. Don't be like this."

"If it really had just been nerves, if you had shown even a hint of arousal while you were touching me..."

"Julie…"

"Please, Rodney. Just give me the weekend to think. Right now, I don't know what I want."

"The weekend? It's Sunday night."

"Just... Let me think, okay? I'll talk to you in a few days."

"A few days?! Are you breaking up with me because I gave you really good orgasms?"

"No, I'm not breaking up with you right now. I just... I need some space to think. Can you not give me that?"

"There's nothing to think about."

"For me, there is."

"Come on, Julie," he said, leaning closer. "Just...forget about it. Let's just move on and we'll try again next weekend. Or even tomorrow night. I can come back."

"Right now, I need space." She stepped back again, putting more distance between them. "I want to think."

"What do you mean you need space?"

"I mean I need you to leave now, and I'll call you later."

"Why can't we just have the conversation now? What's with this need for space?"

"Because right now, I want to be alone and gather my thoughts."

Rodney snorted. "And wait for the revelation to come?"

"And decide if this is something I want to continue. If I really think you're as committed to this as I thought you were. As I am."

"I'm committed."

"I don't know about that."

"Just because there's a failure to perform one on occasion doesn't mean I'm not committed."

She sighed. "I don't know. You didn't just not perform, you showed no interest at all."

"I showed interest!"

"You got me off, but you... you don't even want me touching you."

"I didn't say that." He crossed his arms over his chest.

"Yes, you did. You wouldn't let me touch you, and you pushed me off when I tried to give you a blow job. Those both say 'don't touch me.'"

"You were doing it wrong."

She shook her head. "Just…go, Rodney. I need this right now."

Rodney sighed, frowning. "Fine."

"Goodnight, Rodney."

Rodney let himself out of her house and climbed into his car, heading home. It wasn't even midnight and he'd been kicked out of his girlfriend's house. It was embarrassing. He pulled out, listening to the same weird thumping in his car's engine he'd heard since Friday. At least he'd made the appointment at the dealer for tomorrow morning.

He looked down at his dick. She had been right about one thing - it hadn't had any interest at all in her.

If he had to be honest with himself, it really came down to the fact that he just wasn't that into her. Apparently fantasizing about dark-haired flyboys and his hand were more than enough for his libido.

If she gave him another chance, maybe he could close his eyes and pretend she was someone else.

He chuckled to himself as he considered it. Maybe if she had a cock that would help.

He wondered how she felt about strap-ons.

Rodney pulled into the driveway of the Millers' house, the lights still on downstairs. Great. Just great.

He tried to plot how he could get down to the basement without encountering Jeannie.

Rodney sighed, rubbing a hand over his face, feeling the remnants of Julie's cum. Oh. That's going to be even better.

He slipped in, hearing the television on in the background. Maybe he could make it down before she heard him.

Of course the brat had left toys right in the door way and he managed a not-so-graceful stumble into the entryway table, nearly knocking off the vase of fake flowers.

"Mer? Is that you?"

Damn. "Who else would it be?"

Jeannie stuck her head out of the living room. "What are you doing back? I thought you were staying over at Julie's tonight."

"You and me both. Can we not talk about it?"

To his surprise, she gave him a long look, then nodded, letting him escape without further comment.

"I'm going downstairs. Don't forget Caleb is driving me home tomorrow. I'm dropping my car off in the morning."

"I'll remind him."

"Thank you," he said as he escaped into the basement after stopping in the kitchen to grab two beers. He needed something to help him wind down. And he was not calling Sheppard to talk about this…disaster. That was the last thing he wanted to do. There was no way he was going to tell Sheppard anything about this issue because he didn't need to hear how "Kirk" was getting it on with Andrea every night.

He didn't get much sleep that night, and the next morning, when he finally made it to the office, he was already exhausted.

The dealership was giving him a hard time about the car and his complaints. It was only a month old. It shouldn't be making any noises. So they were going to slide it into their schedule and "get to it when we can". That meant he might see his car by Friday. Maybe.

His first priority of the day was to track down Julie before class to see where they stood.

He managed to catch her in her office before her first class—and she did not look happy to see him. The fact that he was getting weird looks from the other professors did not bode well. "Julie?" he asked as he poked his head in the door. "You have a minute?"

"Not right now. I have class."

"In twenty minutes."

She shook her head. "I'm busy right now."

"You can't keep pushing me off. I gave you space," he said, his fingers forming air quotes.

Her eyes narrowed. "Since you have such a problem with that, why don't we just make that space permanent? You just don't get it."

"What? Why?"

"Just.... I can't deal with this right now." She turned and walked away.

"What the fuck was that?" he asked the world at large as she disappeared down the staircase.

"Seems like her attitude toward you is... softening…McKay." One of the other professors in her department smirked before following after Julie.

"What? What did you say?" he asked, whirling around. "What the hell is going on?"

No one else said anything, the rest of her colleagues disappearing into their offices.

He walked away, turning over the comment in his head, and not liking what he was getting. It couldn't have meant what he thought it meant. Julie wouldn't have told anyone about what happened.

The rest of the morning, various people he ran into made a lot of comments alluding to hard and soft things.

When Rodney caught Meyers smirking at him after he finished his first class of the day, Rodney approached him. "What? What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Having a hard day, are you?"

"No, the classes are going fine."

"Sure." Meyers smirked again and started to wander off.

"What the hell are you saying? And what's with all of the stupid comments from everyone?"

"Just a little rumor that you've gone a bit... soft."

"I…sorry?" Rodney asked, going still, his stomach dropping.

"Oh nothing." Meyers waved it away, the smirk still firmly in place. "You know how these rumors can go. I wouldn't worry about it if I were you."

"You are an idiot."

"At least I don't have.... performance issues."

"Neither do I."

Meyers laughed in his face and walked away.

Rodney scowled at Meyers' back before heading into his office. Thankfully, no one was there, so it gave him a bit of a reprieve. It seemed like he was going to need it.

****

From: M. Rodney McKay [mailto:rodneymckayphdphd@gmail.com]  
Sent: Monday, October 15, 2007 10:45 AM   
To: John [mailto:CowboyFlyboy@gmail.com]

Subject: Idiots

I work for idiots. And the students are even worse.

****

From: John [mailto:CowboyFlyboy@gmail.com]  
Sent: Monday, October 15, 2007 011:09 AM   
To: M. Rodney McKay [mailto:rodneymckayphdphd@gmail.com]

Subject: RE: Idiots

It's only the first semester. Give them time.

****

From: M. Rodney McKay [mailto:rodneymckayphdphd@gmail.com]  
Sent: Monday, October 15, 2007 011:47 AM   
To: John [mailto:CowboyFlyboy@gmail.com]

Subject: RE: Idiots

What took you so long to respond? Are you actually working?

****

From: John [mailto:CowboyFlyboy@gmail.com]  
Sent: Monday, October 15, 2007 011:49 AM   
To: M. Rodney McKay [mailto:rodneymckayphdphd@gmail.com]

Subject: RE: Idiots

I was on a call with my father. He's got ears like an elephant—and he calls me out on it if he hears my typing.

****

From: M. Rodney McKay [mailto:rodneymckayphdphd@gmail.com]  
Sent: Monday, October 15, 2007 011:53 AM   
To: John [mailto:CowboyFlyboy@gmail.com]

Subject: RE: Idiots

Well, we all know you didn't get your ears from him. There had to be an elf in your family line somewhere.

****

From: John [mailto:CowboyFlyboy@gmail.com]  
Sent: Monday, October 15, 2007 011:59 AM   
To: M. Rodney McKay [mailto:rodneymckayphdphd@gmail.com]

Subject: RE: Idiots

I'm convinced you and Andrea are conspiring against me. First the hair, now the ears.

****

From: M. Rodney McKay [mailto:rodneymckayphdphd@gmail.com]  
Sent: Monday, October 15, 2007 012:04 PM   
To: John [mailto:CowboyFlyboy@gmail.com]

Subject: RE: Idiots

Ha! I don't need any help. And I definitely don't need the help of your girlfriend.

****

From: John [mailto:CowboyFlyboy@gmail.com]  
Sent: Monday, October 15, 2007 12:10 PM   
To: M. Rodney McKay [mailto:rodneymckayphdphd@gmail.com]

Subject: RE: Idiots

She's not my girlfriend, just a good friend.

****

From: M. Rodney McKay [mailto:rodneymckayphdphd@gmail.com]  
Sent: Monday, October 15, 2007 012:14 PM   
To: John [mailto:CowboyFlyboy@gmail.com]

Subject: RE: Idiots

Yeah right. That's all you ever talk about anymore. I might be dense, but even I can tell she's your girlfriend.

And crap. Class started 15 minutes ago.

****

Rodney barely made it through his afternoon classes, the comments and the looks only increasing the longer he was on campus. Thankfully Caleb was ready to go as soon as Rodney finished. He was actually waiting outside his class, leaning against the wall.

"Hey."

"Are you ready to go?"

"Yes." When they were in the car, Caleb was silent for a while, but he kept glancing over at Rodney.

"Out with it already," he growled.

Caleb sighed. "Do you know the rumor that got started today about you?"

"That I can't get it up and I'm impotent in bed, that one?" Rodney asked snidely.

"Yes." Caleb sighed again. "I'm sorry. The academic community can be vicious sometimes."

"I have to say the comments and all of the gestures and looks have been quite eye-opening."

"These things usually blow over in a few days."

"Right. Sure they do," he grumbled, looking out the window. "Not a word to Jeannie."

He shook his head. "I'll run interference for you tonight so you don't have to worry about her prying."

"It's bad enough that I'm never going to hear the end of screwing up the one relationship I had. I don't need to hear her making comments about why and how I screwed it up. It's bad enough that the rumors are going around campus. I don't need to have them at home, too."

"I agree."

"The less said about it the better."

Caleb nodded.

"And I need to take Jeannie's car tomorrow to work. Since it's my late night, you don't need to stay. My car won't be ready until god knows when. I'm still waiting to hear back from those idiots."

"That's fine. She doesn't have anything planned for tomorrow, so I know she won't mind."

"Can you just…handle it? I don't want to get into it with her."

"Yes. The keys will be on the counter for you in the morning."

"Good," Rodney said, letting the car fall into silence.

Neither of them said anything for the rest of the ride. When they got home, Caleb immediately went to Jeannie, distracting her so Rodney could go downstairs without playing twenty questions.

He got downstairs without incident and changed into something more comfortable. He ventured up a little while later, grabbing a sandwich—thankfully his cold cuts were still in the fridge—and a six-pack of beer. He could hear Jeannie upstairs in Madison's room. Caleb made a face when he spotted him.

He hurried back down before Jeannie could hear him.

Settling down on the couch, he picked up his phone and flicked on his television. He had a text from Sheppard from earlier in the day. Something random, too.

 _Hey, when's your next school break? You still owe me a visit._

He rolled his eyes and typed back a quick response. _I get vacation? That's news to me._  
Fairly quickly, he got a response. _Come on, I want you to visit. Name the time, and I'll make sure I'm free. Haven't seen you in forever._

Rodney had no intention of going to Kansas or Kentucky, or wherever the hell Sheppard lived. The last thing he needed was to feel his fantasies with the real thing he couldn't touch or feel.

It was around that same time that Madison started banging on the piano. Rodney turned up the television and changed the subject when he texted Sheppard back.

 _Shouldn't have bought the piano. She practices after dinner every night and makes a racket over my head._

 _And you love it. Don't lie._

Rodney rolled his eyes and took another a long pull of his first beer. He finished it in a few minutes, popping open the next one as Madison practiced above him. He reached for his phone.

 _Banging piano keys and headaches don't work well together._

 _It's quiet here. Nothing around for miles._

Nice. Just nice. That's the last thing he needed to hear tonight. Sheppard rubbing in all his good fortune.

 _Bastard._

 _Come visit me, and I'll even give you a room that's quiet all day long._

Rodney set his mouth in a thin line and texted back. _Ha! Probably next to yours so I can hear you and your girlfriend going at it._ He hit send and finished his second beer.

 _We haven't slept together, and I have no real plans to. She's just a friend._

 _Chaya._

He could almost hear Sheppard grinding his teeth. _You're never going to let me live that mistake down, are you?_

 _What are friends for?_ Rodney smirked as he hit send.

 _Jerk._

Rodney snorted and tossed his phone to the side, opening his third beer. Halfway through, Caleb wandered downstairs, narrowing his eyes at him.

"How are you doing?"

"Fine. Dandy. Why should I be anything other than just peachy?" Rodney scowled. "What does it matter to you?"

Caleb shrugged. "I'm worried about you."

"No need," he said, taking another sip of his beer.

"Having people start rumors about you is never fun."

"Are you practicing your ability to understate the obvious or was there something you wanted?"

Caleb came and sat down on the edge of his couch. "Jeannie knows something is up, and I told her I'd come down and check on you so she wouldn't."

"How can she know something is up? Madison is playing low enough to wake the dead."

"She has some kind of sixth sense about these things."

Rodney snorted. "She's like a shark when there's blood in the water."

The other man smiled. "She cares too much sometimes and doesn't want to believe she can't fix everything. It's one of the things I love about her."

Rodney wiggled his fingers at Caleb. "Well, you can just run back upstairs and tell her I'm just honky-dory down here in the cave."

"Are you going to do something stupid?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" Rodney asked, spreading his arms and gesturing to the apartment. "I'm not going anywhere."

Caleb nodded. "Try not to read too much into this. I've seen this before, and it will all pass over in a few days."

"Right."

Caleb stood. "Try not to stay up too late. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Don't forget about Jeannie's car."

"I won't."

"Better not," Rodney grumbled before finishing off his beer. He reached for the fourth as Caleb made his way upstairs. Rodney finished the six pack and woke up sometime hours later, sprawled on the couch, his mouth tasting like socks.

Glancing at the clock he realized he'd slept through the night and he was already late. If he left right now, he might make it for his first class. He desperately needed a shower and coffee—and not necessarily in that order.

He got ready as quickly as he could and as he was heading out—grabbing Jeannie's keys on the way—he realized he had texts from John. He paged through them and just as he was shutting his phone off another one came through.

 _You're not mad are you? I'm sorry if I pissed you off._

Rodney rolled his eyes and shot back a reply. _Life does not revolve around you, you know._

Almost before he hit send there was a response. _Thought I'd been abandoned._

Rodney snorted. _Ha. No. More like the other way around._

 _Never._

 _I have to go to work._

His phone rang seconds later, and Sheppard was talking before he could even put the phone completely to his ear. "Never. You're... I don't know. I can't even imagine life without you to banter with."

"John…" Rodney said with a sigh. He opened the back door of the car and dumped his crap in, slamming it closed. "I can't talk now. I'm late for work."

"Sorry. I just don't want you to think I'm abandoning you for anything."

"Not everything in my life revolves around you," he said bitterly. He climbed in the driver's seat, slamming the door. "Look. I'm late and this doesn't involve you."

"All right. Sorry. Call me later if you want."

"Yeah, sure." Rodney said, hanging up and tossing the phone on the passenger seat. He saw Jeannie standing at the front door watching him, but he started the car and backed out ignoring her.

He finally got to campus—very late—and everything was worse. Not only were the professors giving him looks, but the students were, too. Great. Just great. And then Meyers screamed at him for being late two minutes after he stepped into his office.

This was the last thing he needed. He should have just called in dead or something. It would have been easier.

He finally got hold of the dealership again, and they wouldn't have his car ready until next week sometime. Great. Just great.

By the end of his last class, he was done. He finally pulled out of the campus parking lot around eight, stopping by the liquor store to pick up something. He took his bottle of Vodka and headed to one of the parks that was up on a hill. It was pretty there at least. He opened the windows and watched the scenery as he started drinking.

At some point, he noticed his message light was blinking on the phone. He dialed his voicemail to see what it was and John's smooth voice flowed over him. "Hey, it's me. I just wanted to check and see how everything was going. My phone's on, so... give me a call later. Bye."

His chest ached as he listened to John's voice. He dialed his number, but it went to voice mail after a few rings. "Sorry I missed you. It's been a really crappy day…well, two days. I'm fine…just…" He took a breath. He wasn't going to talk about this on an answering machine. "I'll talk to you later or tomorrow. I don't have class until noon."

About twenty minutes later, his phone rang.

He picked it up, looking at the screen. It was Sheppard. Did he pick it up? He sighed. In for a penny… "Don't you have better things to do except call me?"

"No."

"Aren't you having dinner with Andrea?" He tried to keep the bitterness out of his voice, but even a little tipsy he didn't think he managed.

"I was too worried about you, so we put it off until Thursday. What's going on? It sounded like you had a long day."

"It's stupid. Nothing, really."

"Not stupid if it was bothering you."

Rodney snorted. "I'm a genius with a brain the size of a planet. Lots of things bother me."

"Stop hedging and tell me what happened that had you so upset today."

Rodney rolled his eyes, taking a few moments to form a response. "Why do you care so much?"

"Because it obviously bothered you, so it bothers me. Is it so surprising I actually like you enough to worry about you when something is so obviously wrong?"

"She dumped me." He said it fast, but it still hurt.

"Marie?"

"Julie." Rodney paused, mumbling the rest. "And she told people that I was horrible in bed."

To his surprise, Sheppard actually growled. "She obviously has no fucking clue. You're better off without her."

"She was the first girl I had sex with in years and this is what happens," he said, deflating. "I don't know why I bother trying."

"You deserve so much better."

He let his head drop back against the headrest. "Now I'll never get laid."

"Yes, you will. I promise. Come down and visit me. There are a lot of people I can introduce you too, and maybe one of them will catch your eye."

Rodney snorted. "Socialites and scientists don't mix."

"You and I mix just fine."

"You're different," Rodney said, sighing. This was moving onto dangerous territory and something he didn't want to get into. "Look, I should probably head back to the house before Jeannie thinks I crashed her car or something."

The other man sighed softly. "I wish I was up there to buy you a beer."

"Beer's overrated," he said, picking up his bottle. "I'm working my way through cheap vodka."

"At least get the good stuff. It's a better hangover the next day."

"It all tastes the same after Russia."

John's chuckle sent shivers through Rodney. The part that had failed to perform with Julie stood up at attention now. "Just don't get so hammered that blowing shit up in revenge sounds like a good idea. And seriously—don't listen to her. Anyone with any degree of class would just walk away and leave it at that. But to spread rumors takes a certain breed of bitch that you're better off without. We can do better for you, buddy."

"It's not my fault I couldn't get it up," he said, getting defensive. "She wasn't exactly helpful in that regard, either."

"Yeah, once Mister Happy decides he's not interested, there's not much you can do. And the fact that he was declining the party tells you right there she obviously wasn't good enough for you."

Rodney rolled his eyes, his tone turning snide. "Of course you'd name your dick."

"You're missing the point." John huffed into the phone.'

"Right now, I don't think I care." Yeah, the Vodka was finally doing the trick. Numbing everything nicely.

"Yeah, I know. Women suck. That's why I stick with planes and horses."

"You're the one with the long-term girlfriend."

"She's not my girlfriend in that sense. She's a female friend, yes, but we're not sleeping together. I like her, but honestly I don't have any sexual interest."

"Yeah, right," Rodney said, the sarcasm thick. "You don't have to lie to make me feel better. Go back to the restaurant to meet your girlfriend, John."

"I'm not lying. The only hand that's touched my dick in years has been my own." John saying the word dick made Rodney's jump. "I'm just not all that interested in what they have to offer, honestly. When I say I think sex is overrated, I'm not kidding. It's not bad, don't get me wrong, but nothing I can't live without."

"Yeah. Whatever," Rodney said, rolling his eyes. This conversation was over. "I'm going home. You should, too. Or do whatever it is you do these days."

"I'm headed home now. In the car. And you should come down here for a visit. The change of scenery would do you good."

"Right. So I can watch you moon over your girlfriend. No thank you." Rodney said, taking another swig of his Vodka. It was nice and warm going down. "Go home."

"Rodney..." John's voice was soft.

"What? What do you want me to say?" Rodney asked sharply. Sheppard wasn't listening. Never listened. "I'm the loser living in my sister's basement with a job at a back-end college in the middle of bum-fuck nowhere Canada, teaching kids who would rather be smoking pot than attending my classes! And the one chance…the one chance I had and I can't even get it up to enjoy it. God! What the hell do you want from me?"

"I want you to be happy."

"Well, that's an impossibility in this lifetime and dimension. Try a different one."

"You should go back to Atlantis. The SGC and Elizabeth would gladly take you back, and you were happy there."

Yeah, right. That wasn't happening. He took another sip. "I burned that bridge months ago. Up in flames."

"Not necessarily. You could try. I just hate to see you so... miserable."

"I can't try. There is no try. Zippo. Nothing. No chance in hell. You should have heard Landry." He shook his head, thinking back to just how many people he screwed over when he left. Yeah, they'd never take him back. Ever.

John sighed. "When I finish this degree, come work with me. We'll start a business building awesome planes and make a fortune."

"You wouldn't want me. I'd screw it up. Blow it up. Up in flames, just like the rest of my life."

"You're the only one I'd even consider trying it with. Without you, I'd never get it off the ground."

"Go home, John," Rodney said, suddenly tired. "Your girlfriend is probably waiting for you."

"I'm going home to the estate, and Andrea—who is not my girlfriend—is at her own house. I abandoned her to talk to you."

"She must be mad at you. You shouldn't have done that. Means you won't get laid tonight. Make sure you buy her a nice gift."

"I don't want to get laid." There was a click indicating John was home and switching from his car headset to his Bluetooth. "I know it's hard to believe, but seriously, I'm not all that interested in women. They're nice and all, but I have better things I could be doing."

"Like having sex with your girlfriend," he said pointedly.

"One: not my girlfriend. And two: we haven't slept together, nor do I have plans to. She's just a good friend."

"I know you. You're just trying to make me feel better, but it's not working. I know better. I can tell that you're lying."

John finally sounded frustrated. "Whatever. I haven't slept with her, but obviously, you want to believe otherwise. I don't know why that's so hard to believe. Other than one stupid mistake with Chaya, in all the time you've known me, I haven't slept with anyone."

"Is your nose growing? That's a whopper!"

"No, it isn't. Rodney, I was with you almost every night, off-world and on. When do you think I had all this time to sleep my way through the galaxy?"

"Plenty of time, lots of time. All those chieftain's daughters are missing you right now. The priestesses, too, I bet. Crying their eyes out." Rodney took another long pull from the bottle. He could see them all back in Pegasus, crying because Kirk was gone.

There was a pause on John's end. "Are you drunk?"

"I don't know. Am I?" He picked up the bottle, eyeing it. "There's still vodka left, so probably not."

"Fuck. Rodney..." John sighed. "I wish I was there."

Rodney narrowed his eyes. "I'm not giving you my vodka."

"I don't want it. But you're going to need someone to rub your back when you're puking at 2 am."

"I should probably go home." It was late. And dark. Really dark.

"Where are you?"

"Here." Rodney rolled his eyes. Where else would he be?"

"Where is here? I don't want you to drive. You're my best friend, and I'd really rather not lose you to drunk driving." Parts of him that weren't functioning very well right now, like his brain, took that tone as 'John cares about me!' The more rational part, however, refused to believe it, drunk or not.

"I don't know," Rodney said with a shrug. He took another sip and reached for the keys. They were on the seat. How did they get there? "Here. I'll find my way."

"Where is here? Your office? A bar?"

"I'm in Jeannie's car. She let me borrow it."

"And she would be really unhappy if you wrecked it. Lemme call her on the other line, and she can come get you. Okay, buddy?"

"I'm fine," Rodney said, managing to get the keys in the ignition. He turned it on and started the car up. "It's pretty up here. Did you know that?"

"Yeah, I do know that. Rodney, please. I'm begging you, as your friend, just stay where you are. I really, really don't want to get the call that you're dead because you were driving tonight."

"You drive fast all the time. I know because I've tracked you." Rodney said, nodding to himself. He'd hacked John's phone. Could find him. Could track him when he drove. Right now he needed to go home. He put the car in gear and took his foot off the brake.   
"Yeah, but I never do it drunk." John was starting to panic. "If you want to drive fast, do it tomorrow when you don't have a bottle of vodka in you."

"I'll go slow now. It's dark." He paused at a fork in the road. Which way? "Hmm. Right. Maybe. Yes, right."

"Rodney!"

"Yes, John? Can I call you John? You called me Rodney, so that means I should be able to call you John, right? Although, I'm so used to calling you Sheppard. Like a sheep herder. Just like Carson. I heard from Carson. Did I tell you that?"

"Yeah, you can call me John. I don't mind at all. What did Carson say? I haven't heard from anyone back on Atlantis."

"John. Johnjohnjohnjohn," he said, liking how it rolled off his tongue. "He's dating Cadman again."

"Is he? When did that happen?"

"I don't know. Before," Rodney said with a shrug. He turned a corner and the town was really pretty laid out in front of him. "And wow. Those are pretty lights."

John's voice went back to being breathy and panicky. "Rodney. Please, please, pull over, look for a street sign, and tell me where you are. I'll have someone come get you."

Rodney heard a weird sound and then there were pretty flashing lights in the mirror. He turned looking behind him. Oh. That was a Mountie! That's kinda cool. "John, I think there's a Mountie behind me. Mounties always get their man!"

"Fuck. He's probably going to pull you over for drunk driving. Pull over, Rodney, and stop the car."

"But why? I'm not speeding like you."

"Because you're probably weaving, and it's dangerous."

Rodney shook his head. "I don't have a weave. My hair's not that bad yet. Or is it?" He reached up, patting his head. "Maybe that's why Julie didn't like me anymore."

"Your hair is fine just the way it is. Have you pulled over yet?"

The weird sound happened again. "I'm not going fast. He can pass me."

"Rodney! Pull the damn car over. He's not using his siren to tell you you're going too slow. He's telling you he wants to give you a ticket."  
"But I don't want a ticket," Rodney whined, but aimed the car toward the side of the road. This wasn't fair.

"At this point, you don't have much choice, buddy. You need to pull over now, or you're going to get arrested and get a ticket."

"But I didn't do anything wrong," Rodney said, stopping the car. He managed to get it into park. The pretty lights pulled up right behind him, shining in his eyes.

John sounded more relaxed now. "The law considers driving while under the influence of alcohol wrong, buddy."

Rodney shifted around in his seat, looking out the open window just as a guy walked up. He was in uniform. Huh. It was a Mountie. He had to tell John. "Oh, look! Hi, Mister Mountie! Hey, John. Mister Mountie is here."

"Ask Mister Mountie where you are right now, and tell him I'm going to call your sister to come get you."

Rodney was going to tell him he didn't need to call Jeannie, but the Mountie pulled the phone from his hand. "Hey! That's mine!" And then he started talking to John about driving and picking him up in the morning. He had school in the morning. He had work to do in the morning.

Instead of handing the phone back, the Mountie gave him a hard stare after he hung up. "Sir, I need you to get out of the vehicle."

"I don't want to get out of the ve…vehicle. I'm going home."

"No sir, you are not. You are coming with me down to the station, and if you don't want to spend more than a night sobering up in my jail, you will get out of your vehicle now."

"But Jeannie needs her car back. I have to bring it back to her. It's not far. I'll just go."

"The car is going to be towed to the impound lot. Sir, if you do not get out of the vehicle now, I will add resisting arrest to your growing list of offenses tonight."

"But I don't want to go to the impound lot."

"You are going to jail to sober up."

Rodney looked up at the guy, blinking his eyes. "But I just want to go home."

"I really don't care what you want, sir. You chose to drive drunk, so now you're coming with me."

"But I don't want to," Rodney protested as the Mountie opened the door. He reached in and tugged Rodney easily from the car, pressing his chest up against the rear passenger door. "Hey!"

Before Rodney could pull away, there were handcuffs on him.

"Hey! Stop it! I don't want to do this anymore."

"I don't care what you want." The Mountie roughly shoved him until he was being pushed into the back of the flashy car.

"Ow! That hurts! I can….can crush you with my brain!"

"Yeah yeah." The Mountie slammed the door shut.

Rodney shifted in the back of the car, trying to tug his hands free. When that failed, he watched the officer walking around by Jeannie's car—boy, it was sure parked weird and crooked. He wanted the rest of his Vodka. He hoped it wasn't spilling on the seat. And he wanted John—way more than he was supposed to.

The Mountie shut it off and shut the door, then he got in the front seat of the flashy car and talked on his radio.

They sat there a long time. Long enough for the beginnings of reality to settle back into his brain and a tow truck to show up to get Jeannie's car.

They were towing Jeannie's car.

He was in the back seat of a police car.

He was getting arrested.

Fuck.

He leaned forward, thumping his head against the metal partition separating the front and back seats of the car.

The Mountie ignored him. When Jeanie's car was gone, Rodney was taken down to the police station.

"Can't we just consider this a big misunderstanding?"

The police around him didn't even blink, just continued to "book" him.

He was searched and fingerprinted and photographed and then thrown into a jail cell—already occupied by five other men. "Hey! Don't I get a phone call?"

"When you're sober enough to make one, yes."

"I'm sober! I'm fine. I want my own cell."

The Mountie who had taken charge of him in the station didn't even change expression. He pulled a phone receiver off the wall near the cell and handed it to Rodney. "Give me the number."

"It's in my cell phone."

"Too bad. That's been impounded."

"I'm too important to remember phone numbers. That's why they made address books. It's in the address book. Just go and get my phone and look it up."

"This is your one call. You can give me the number to dial now, or you can lose it. Up to you."

"I don't know it! I already told you, you moron, that it's in my phone's address book! Weren't you listening?"

The officer's eyes narrowed. "Guess you're shit out of luck then, aren't you?"

"You're supposed to be helping me. Protect and serve. So, go and get my phone."

The officer yanked the phone back, hung it up and walked away.

"Hey! Come back here! You can't leave me here. You can't just leave me in here with the riff-raff. I'm a scientist! A professor! My constitution is very delicate."

He didn't even pause.

Rodney sighed, banging his head against the bar of the cell. He turned around a minute later, only to find the five really big men looking at him.

The cell had the smell of cheap alcohol, and every single one of them had red eyes.

"Look. I didn't mean anything by that comment. This is just a big misunderstanding."

"First time?" A giant black man in the corner rumbled at him.

"Yes," Rodney said, crossing his arms over his chest. He lifted his head and sniffed. "And I don't intend on being here longer than a few minutes."

Black man snorted. "They don't give a shit. All bastards here."

"And how exactly would you be privy to their private data to know this?"

He got a blank look.

"Idiots," he said, rolling his eyes. "How would you know who their parents were to say they were all bastards? That's pretty specific information you obtained."

"Whatever."

"So. Do we get bathroom breaks?"

One of the other guys pointed at a dirty urinal in the corner.

"What! I can't pee in public."

No one answered him, just all stared.

"Are you all hard of hearing as well as dumb? I am not peeing in public."

It was black man who answered. "They don't care."

"What do you mean they don't care?" Rodney turned around, leaning on the bars. "Hey! Come back here! I need to talk to someone!"

He yelled for another ten minutes, but not a single officer came.

"This is so unfair," he grumbled as he turned back around, leaning his back against the bars.

The officer who wouldn't bring his phone came back a while later to check on the cell.

"Hey! I need to pee. Can you let me out?" Rodney asked, scrambling to his feet from where he'd slid down the wall to sit.

"It's in the corner."

"I don't pee in public and I'm not feeling that good."

"Don't care."

"Come on. Have a heart. I'm not a criminal. This is just a misunderstanding."

"That's what they all say."

"Come on."

"You'll get out in the morning." The officer walked away again.

Rodney sighed and eyed the bowl in the corner. He really had to pee and he was starting to get really nauseous. He just wanted to be home in his bed.

None of the other men in the cell blinked or moved.

He finally had to give up, quickly peeing in the corner. He could feel how hot his face was. He vaguely wondered if he could die from embarrassment. He moved back to the other side of the cell away from everyone and slumped down on the floor, curling up on his side. He felt like shit.

The rest of the night passed slowly, but finally, eventually, another officer came in with a key and unlocked the cell. "Those of you who have paid your fines are free to go."

Rodney shoved himself up to a seated position, groaning as his body protested. His head was even worse than before he slept and his stomach was doing weird jumpy things. He blinked up at the officer. "Sorry?"

She glanced at a list. "McKay, Smithington, Cruiser. Your fines have been paid and someone is here to get you."

Rodney slowly climbed to his feet, following the two other men out. He was given a bag of his stuff which he had to sign for and then he found himself blinking at Caleb who was standing in the lobby.

His sister's husband took his arm and carefully led him out. "Come on. I already called the school and told them you were really sick, so you don't have classes today. Let's get you home."

"I tried to do that last night."

"I think they objected to you trying to do it while driving under the influence." Caleb got him into the car.

"God, why is it so bright and loud out here?" Rodney groaned, closing his eyes and putting his head down.

"Sorry." Caleb got into the driver's side and started the car.

They made it a few blocks before the motion and the light and his pounding head made him grab at Caleb's arm. "Stop the car. Stop the damn car. I'm going to be sick."

Caleb managed to get to the curb just in time. Rodney stumbled out and got violently sick on the side of the road.

He heaved and heaved until there was nothing left and he honestly felt like he was going to die.

Caleb was there rubbing his back through it all. When he was finally done, the other man gently helped him back into the car.

He put his head against the window glass, the AC vent blowing right on his face. He closed his eyes and the next thing he remembered was Caleb gently taping his shoulder, trying to rouse him.

"We're home. Jeannie and Maddie aren't here. She picked up the car from impound this morning and took Madison out shopping. So the house should be quiet for most of the day."

Rodney nodded, stopping as soon as his head flared. "'K, he whispered.

"Let's get you downstairs."

Rodney let Caleb manhandle him into the house and down the stairs. He even let him strip him down to his boxers and push him into his bed. He was just so damn tired and his head hurt and he still felt sick.

Before he could fall asleep, Caleb was back again. He had a plate of toast with butter on it, and a glass of water. "I don't know when the last time you ate was. I know you're not feeling well, but I don't think any of us want to have to take you to the hospital."

"Just let me die."

"I can't do that. If you can get a few pieces of toast down now, I'll leave you alone."

"I don't want toast," Rodney whined, even as Caleb pulled him upright, more or less forcing him to eat the toast. Two glasses of water followed along with some pills.

"There. I'll leave something else for you to eat when you wake up later, but I'll leave you alone. Get some sleep."

And sleep he did.

Caleb roused him at some point in the afternoon, making him drink some apple juice and eat more toast and gave him something else to help with his head. By the time dinner rolled around, Rodney was awake.

He was hungry—starving actually—so he wandered upstairs to see what he could find.

Jeannie looked shocked to see him when he wandered into the kitchen. She was cooking something, an apron around her waist, as Madison sat at the kitchen table drawing something.

"Mer! You're alive!"

He cringed at the high-pitch of her voice. "Yeah. Barely. And can you…keep it down?"

She gave him a 'look'. "Sit down and I'll get you something to eat."

"Nothing heavy, please. I just need a little something." He moved to the table and dropped into a chair across from his niece.

"So. Driving while intoxicated."

"I don't want to hear it."

"Mer.... I don't understand why you let that woman drive you to this."

Rodney put his head down on his arms. "You wouldn't understand."

"Caleb finally told me what she did last night. I was ready to flay you alive until he told me what happened." She sighed. "At least you don't have to worry about the tickets and fines. John beat us to it and paid it all off last night."

He lifted his head, squinting at Jeannie. "Sorry? What did John do?"

"He called us last night when you were arrested, and as soon as we found out which station you were at, Caleb let him know. He paid your ticket and fines, and he paid to get my car out of impound."

"You let him?"

"He didn't ask."

Rodney sighed. "Now I owe him money."

"I doubt he'll take it. He wouldn't even tell me how much it all was."

"A lot. And I have to report for a court thing in a week or so. At least I think I do. It's on the paperwork they gave me."

"You can worry about that tomorrow."

Rodney sighed again as a plate of lasagna was slid in front of him. "Where…?" Then he spotted the tray on the counter, one slice missing. "Oh. You made this?"

"Yes, now eat. I know Caleb was giving you toast today, but that's not enough to keep your blood sugar on the right track. You need something heavier to balance you out."

He ducked his head, feeling his cheeks heat. He hated feeling so useless. "Thanks."

"Don't thank me, eat."

He dug into his food, managing to get half of it down before giving up. His stomach was still unsettled, so he didn't want to overdo it. Madison kept giving him weird looks from across the table as he ate.

"What does intoxicated mean, Uncle Mer?"

"Ask your mother."

"She won't tell me."

He shot an annoyed look at his sister. "Then ask your father."

She let out a sigh that sounded exactly like Jeannie.

"Your father is an English major and should have no issues with providing you with a definition of the word."

"He won't tell me either."

"Then, I guess you need to learn to live with disappointment."

She rolled her eyes, again in a move that was his sister to a "T".

Rodney got up and poked his head in the fridge, his eyes resting on the beer that was inside. Jeannie was beside him a second later.

"Don't even think about it. You'll have water or juice."

"I can have whatever I want."

"No, actually, you can't. You're still dehydrated, and you will have water or juice. We are not having a repeat of last night. Or do I need to remind you of the cell, or what it feels like to be arrested, or puking on the side of the road, or how sick you've felt all day?"

He scowled, but reached for the apple juice. "No."

"Good."

He grumbled to himself, but poured a tall glass of juice. He headed back downstairs and ended up falling asleep on the couch with the television on low.

Around midnight he woke up again, and was wide awake.

Great. Just great. He wandered upstairs, getting some more juice and something else for his still-pounding head. He grabbed a few cookies from the cookie jar and spotted his cell phone on the counter. He took that as well.

The house was quiet for once, which was nice.

He wandered back downstairs, figuring he'd work on some stuff on his laptop, but after turning his apartment upside down discovered it was missing. Jeannie, probably.

Or maybe his office? Had he left it there? It was possible. The previous day was a blur.

He dropped back onto the couch with a sigh and pulled out his phone. It was fully charged—a plus. He scrolled through the contacts and hit Sheppard's number.

"Llo?" John's voice was warm and groggy.

Rodney glanced at the time, realizing it was really, really late. "Oh, shit. I woke you."

"Rodney! No, I wasn't sleeping yet. How are you? Where are you?"

Rodney winced, pulling the phone away from his ear. "Not so loud! I'm home. Jeannie took the keys away."

"Sorry." John lowered his voice. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, apart from the ripping hangover. Caleb actually had to call in sick for me today."

"I'm sorry. I wish there was something I could do. Did you check your email?"

"No. I really haven't been all too conscious today. And it's probably for the best. By the time Jeannie got around to lecturing me, she was too tired chasing Madison around to really put energy into it. And, you didn't have to pay my fines." So much for yelling at him. It was more whiny than anything.

"It was the least I could do, since I wasn't close enough to do anything else useful for you. And check your email. I sent you something I'm hoping will cheer you up."

"I'll look tomorrow. Jeannie took that away too, so I need to find out where she hid it. I've only managed to find my phone so far."

"Your sister loves you. She's just worried you'll push yourself too hard."

Rodney snorted. "She was just glad I didn't wreck her car."

He could hear the smile in John's voice. "Probably that, too. But she does worry about you."

"Sure she does." Rodney sighed quietly, his fingers plucking at the edge of a throw pillow. "I really don't know why I called you."

"Because I'm your friend, and that's what friends do. I'm glad you did. I've been worried about you all day."

"Apparently I've been unconscious for a good portion of the last twenty-four hours. I was told it was a good thing."

"I've had some pretty killer hangovers before, so it probably is a good thing you slept through it."

"I guess. Defeats the whole purpose of getting drunk, though."

"Honestly, I've never really thought it had much of a purpose."

"Well, I don't remember much after I drove to the park," he said lightly. Maybe if he told himself that a few times, he'd forget about the cell with the other men. Maybe. "I might have talked to you, though. It's kind of fuzzy. Oh…did I interrupt you having sex with your girlfriend?"

"No. I left her to call you last night. And she's not my girlfriend, and we haven't had sex. We had that conversation last night." John paused. "And you decided to call me John instead of Sheppard."

"I did?" Rodney felt his cheek getting warm. He did remember that too well. He'd sung John's name to him. "Oh, I'm sorry. I really must have been drunk then."

"Why? I don't mind it at all. I call you Rodney."

"No, you don't."

"Yes, I do." John's chuckle ran down Rodney's spine. "You can call me whatever you want."

Rodney ducked his head, even though no one could see him. "I'm sure I can come up with some creative names."

"Gee, thanks."

He let the silence settle for a minute, feeling a little weird. "I should let you go back to sleep."

"To be honest, I wasn't really sleeping. I had been lying on the bed staring at the ceiling for the last several hours. It wasn't very exciting."

Rodney's forehead scrunched together. "Why?"

"I was wishing I was in Canada where I could actually do something to help."

"Why? You have a job and a girlfriend and a life. It's bad enough I call you and bother you all the time."

"I work for my father, I have a female friend who is not a girlfriend, and my life consists of schoolwork and riding horses at the moment, with the occasional boring social thing I get dragged to against my will."

"That qualifies as a life. At least you didn't get arrested for driving under the influence and drunk and disorderly conduct."

"You have a life, too. You're teaching, and you have Jeannie and Maddie and Caleb. And you could always start doing research again, invent something. I know you have a lot of ideas, and it would be good to have a hobby again."

"I live in my sister's basement," Rodney said, for once not hiding the bitterness. "She barely tolerates me and the brat torments me when I'm home. The students I teach are barely smart enough to grasp the concepts of my class and will never amount to anything."

"I don't know what you want me to tell you." John sighed softly.

"Nothing," he said sharply. "There's nothing you can do."

"Get out there and find something to do you enjoy. Even if it's just part time. You'll be a lot happier that way."

Rodney shook his head. Sheppard didn't get it. He'd burned all his bridges a long time ago. His father…his father could still influence the science community since he was incapable of actually getting a job in his field. He was trapped. Trapped like the pathetic little man he was. He was a genius. He should have figured this out a long time ago. "I should let you go to bed."

"I can stay up. Besides, I'm already in bed. So you don't have to let me go to do anything. And I'd rather talk to you than sleep."

"This is not exactly a scintillating conversation."

"So? It doesn't have to be."

Rodney sighed, shifting around on the couch to a more comfortable position. "I'm supposed to go to work in the morning."

"Me, too. Go lay down in bed with the phone. If we fall asleep, fine."

"Are you a fourteen year old girl now? This isn't a sleep over."

"Sorry. I don't know. I'm just trying to be supportive and helpful."

"I know," Rodney said with a sigh. "Look. I'm going to go to bed."

"All right. I'll talk to you tomorrow then."

"Yeah. Night."

"Night."

Rodney hung up the phone, tossing it onto the table. He didn't think it possible, but after that conversation he felt worse. Maybe bed might not be a bad idea.

The next morning, since his own car still wasn't ready, Caleb was waiting for him to drive in to the college. His laptop mysteriously reappeared as well.

He was quiet the entire ride in, refusing to look at his brother-in-law. As soon as they got to campus, Rodney headed off to the science building, not waiting for Caleb. He'd find him at some point during the day. If not, Rodney had his phone.

Fortunately he didn't have any early classes, so he could hole up and lick his wounds a bit.

He pulled up his email as soon as he hooked his laptop into the internet, letting two days worth of mail flood the box. He spotted one from Sheppard and pulled it up even as the rest were loading.

One business class ticket to Kentucky the day after classes ended.

What. The. Fuck.

He dialed Sheppard.

"Did you check your email yet?"

"What the hell is this?"

"You got it?"

"If by 'it'," Rodney said snidely, "you mean the open ended business class ticket to the States, then the answer is yes."

"All right! I left it open ended so you can stay as long as you want."

"I can't just…pick up and go."

"It's for after the school year ends. Caleb gave me the dates, so I know they're right. You need a vacation, Rodney. You need to get away and relax, and we haven't hung out in forever. This will be good for you."

"You already spent a fortune on me. You didn't need to do this."

"Yes I did. Every time I ask you about coming to visit, you find a reason why you can't. I miss you, Rodney. I want you to come visit."

Rodney pressed his lips into a thin line. There was a reason he didn't want to visit. John's voice was enough to make him ache with need. Seeing him again was going to be orgasmic. "Fine."

"It will be fun. And quiet. No pianos here, and we can do as much or as little as you want."

"I said fine," he grumbled, glancing up as he heard a knock on his door. "Look. I should go. Someone's here."

"All right, go work, and we'll talk later."

"Yeah," he said as he hung up. "Come in already and stop pounding on the door."

Ashley popped her head in. "Doctor McKay?"

"Yes, what?"

"I heard you were sick. Is everything okay?"

"Yes, fine. Did you need something?"

She slipped in. And looked him over carefully. "One of the other girls who still works for Professor Meyers said she heard him talking. She wasn't positive, but she thought it sounded like he was telling someone to... take care of the problem, and she thought she heard your name, so she told me so I could make sure you were okay."

He narrowed his eyes, trying to follow what she was saying. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm not sure, because Sarah wasn't sure, but... she was worried. We don't want you to get hurt for trying to help us."

Rodney sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "Look. For the record, I'm fine. I had a disagreement with the police over the state I was driving home the other night. For some reason they look down on open half-drunk liquor bottles. And that does not need to go any further than this room."

She relaxed. "Oh thank goodness."

"It was my own doing this time."

"We were afraid you had been poisoned or something."

Rodney snorted, gesturing to the chair opposite his desk. "This poisoning was my own doing."

She gave him a big smile. "Okay, I'll leave you alone then, and let the others know they can stop worrying."

"Anything happen yesterday I need to know about?"

She shook her head. "Your advanced class still met. We didn't have your lesson plans, but we spent the time helping everyone who was struggling a bit."

"You did?"

She nodded. "We didn't want to not have class since we all love it, so those of us who are mostly getting it helped out those who were struggling. It was actually kind of fun."

"Be careful what you wish for because you might end up doing even more work."

She smiled, one of the first real ones he had seen on her. Since getting her out of Meyers' office, she was becoming almost another person, more energetic and dedicated. And she was, surprisingly, showing an amazing amount of potential. "That would be great!"

He raised an eyebrow.

"I'd love to actually be your TA and help out the other students and stuff."

"You are my TA."

"I know, but I mostly just help out around your office. If you wanted me to do some of your office hours and tutoring and stuff, I could."

Rodney looked at her for a long minute, narrowing his eyes at her. She didn't blink, didn't budge. She held his gaze, almost daring him. "Okay, fine. You're doing the morning class on Monday. Make sure you have the lecture prepared. I'll be in the back watching."

She grinned. "Awesome! Thanks, Doctor McKay!"

"Don't thank me yet," he grumbled, turning back to his computer. "I'm not going to go easy on you anymore."

She laughed and headed out, shutting the door behind her.

"Damn pushy," he muttered to himself. But in all reality, he was kind of pleased.

****

The court thing was a nightmare. He had to appear two weeks after "The Incident" as he'd been calling it. After going through the whole circus show, he was only given a warning and a fine. No community service or anything since this was a first offense.

At least he had a half-way competent lawyer.

The rest of the semester went in waves. He had good days and bad days. Probably the most scarring was the day he walked into Meyers office and found him fucking Susan over his desk. He'd left the door open a hair, just enough for Rodney to see.

And he'd seen more than enough.

He backed out quietly, the new blonde at the front desk begging him silently not to make a scene.

It just hardened his resolve to expose what Meyers was doing.

He just had to figure out how to bring it up, how to reveal the whole thing. He was working on a plan, but he had yet to piece it all together.

Fortunately, now he had the holiday winter break in Kentucky to think about it.

After multiple delays and stupid winter storms, he finally dragged himself out of the airport. Hopefully someone would be able to point him to the rental car counter or someone could just take him where he needed to go.

Suddenly, one of his bags was disappearing and a hot cup of coffee was in his hand. "Hey, buddy."

"What? Hey! Oh," Rodney said, looking up and seeing John. He blinked twice making sure it wasn't just a hopeful hallucination. "It's you."

John was grinning. "Yeah. Figured you could use this after the flight. How was it, other than long?"

"Horrible. Long." Rodney took a sip of the beverage in his hand and the warm perfectly sweet liquid spread across his tongue. Perfect. Just perfect. "Oh, this is good."

If anything, the other man's smile just got wider as they started walked. "Your favorite, made just the way you like it."

After spending most of the day in airports, when they stepped outside he shivered. "I thought it was supposed to be warm here."

"This is warm for Kentucky. It's up around fifty today. And you'll be happy to know that while my entire family is dying to meet you, I've managed to postpone the welcome dinner until tomorrow. So you'll have time to get settled in first."

"Oh, thank you. You are a saint." Rodney took another sip of his coffee, moaning at how good it was. "I don't think I could handle any more people today."

"Yeah, I figured. Your room is all ready for you, so if you just want to crash and relax for today, you can, or I can give you the two-cent tour of the estate. Or if you really want to go into the city, we can."

"Um…" Rodney glanced up, a little overwhelmed at how much had just come out of John's mouth. And no. He was not looking at his lips or his mouth. Or…no. Was. Not. Looking. "Whatever."

"It's good to have you here." John actually bounced on his toes, then pointed to a car. "That's us."

Rodney stopped in his tracks as soon as his eyes landed on the car. It was so…ridiculous. Talk about overcompensation. He couldn't believe John had actually purchased that…penis extension. From what Rodney remembered from the showers, John had nothing to worry about. He stared for a long minute, trying to sort it all out in his head, but nothing really slid into place. It was just so… He felt the laughter rising before it actually burst out of his mouth.

The sheepish look on John's face, coupled with the "What?" just topped it off.

"You…" Rodney said, but the laugher cut off whatever else he was going to say. It was too damn funny.

After a few moments of looking embarrassed, John joined in until they were both rolling with it.

"Oh god," Rodney said, wiping the tears from his eyes. "It's even worse in person. If that's not the poster perfect ad for Viagra, I don't know what is. I don't know how you managed to find a girlfriend with that…" He waved his hand at the car.

"Just get in the car." John was still chuckling as he put Rodney's bags in the trunk. "And seriously, she's not my girlfriend. You'll meet her tomorrow."

"Of course she is. She calls herself your girlfriend; therefore she is your girlfriend." Rodney slid into the passenger seat, careful not to spill his coffee.

"She's a female friend, and hence a girl friend if you want to call it that. But we're not dating."

Uh huh. Sure. He rolled his eyes. "Do you or do you not talk to her every day?"

"Rodney, I talk to you every day. Does that mean we're dating, too?"

Rodney didn't let that comment sit, didn't think about it. It was way too dangerous. "We're not talking about me. We're talking about you and the huge issue of denial you have. Now answer the question."

"Yes, I talk to her almost every day. But I talk to you more, between calling, texting and email."

"Do you or do you not take her to dinner?"

"Sometimes. But she pays about half the time, too."

"Probably a quarter of the time, if that, in reality. I know you. Who do you go to every social affair with?"

John rolled his eyes at Rodney as he pulled out of the airport. "She is a good friend, I've never denied that. And other than you, my only friend outside my family. And you're in Canada most of the time, so who else am I going to hang out with?"

"So is that a yes?" He looked at John, an eyebrow raised.

"Why are you so determined to get me attached to someone?"

"I'm not determined to do anything! You did it yourself!"

"I'm not dating her! We're just good friends. By your standards, I'm closer to dating you than her."

Rodney laughed, shaking his head. So far from the truth. So far. "You really are in denial."

"Whatever." They pulled onto the highway. "We're about forty-five minutes from the house. Is there anything you want me to stop and get before we head that way?"

"No. I'm at your mercy," Rodney said, gesturing with his free hand as he sipped at his coffee. This was kind of nice. And John was just as easy to get along with in person as he was over the phone.

With a huge grin, John practically bounced in his seat as he drove. "Jerk."

Rodney rolled his eyes. "Idiot."

"Bastard."

They ended up bantering for the rest of the ride to John's house—a.k.a. "The Mansion". He had known intellectually that John's family had money. It was another thing to actually see it.

As soon as they pulled in and parked, there were people helping them do this and that. It was a little overwhelming. The food they'd put out for him was amazing and the house itself was enormous. Actually he was surprised John didn't get lost in it. It almost made Rodney yearn for a GPS or an LSD.

He ended up meeting John's immediate family that night—brother, sister-in-law, and parents. They all seemed like nice people. As soon as Rodney had stepped in the door and spotted Dave, he'd sent him the silent "don't be an idiot and out us" look to him. It seemed like Dave was going to play along, which was good.

Until it slipped. John was too good not to notice it. Rodney cringed, knowing things were going to go downhill fast.

John was suddenly looking between him and Dave. "Wait a minute, you two have talked before? When?"

"Before," Rodney replied tightly.

"Before when?"

"Before…now."

John narrowed his eyes, and looked over at his brother. "You care to shed any light on this for me?"

Dave shook his head. "Not if I don't have to."

"You have to."

"It's nothing, John. Let it go," Rodney said quietly, trying to diffuse the situation, but he already knew it was too late.

"If it's nothing, why are the two of you refusing to tell me?" He looked back and forth between them.

"Because we both know how badly this is going to go once we do tell you and I'd rather enjoy my vacation if I can," Rodney said quietly.

"Wonderful." John rubbed at his face, which Rodney recognized as one of his habits when he was getting angry and trying not to.

Dinner would have been amazing, except now everything stuck in his chest somewhere. Every bite was giving him indigestion. He was already figuring out how to get back to the airport and get his flight back home. He could ask that Simon guy to take him.

When dinner ended, John had retreated into the polite "placate the natives" mode and slipped away as soon as he could.

Rodney found Simon and talked to him quietly, explaining what he needed. He was quite eager to help. Simon led him up to his room and helped him pack, taking his suitcase downstairs. He'd be waiting for him when he was ready to go.

Rodney squared his shoulders and knocked on Sheppard's door.

"It's open."

"Hey," Rodney said as he opened the door, poking his head inside. "I'm sorry I screwed up dinner."

"It was fine."

Rodney snorted, shaking his head. "Sure. Look. I talked to Simon and he'll take me to the airport. There's a flight out tonight."

John was suddenly sitting up giving Rodney all of his attention. "Like hell. You're not leaving yet."

"You're pissed at me and, honestly, I can tell you really don't want me here." And right now he couldn't stay here if Sheppard was mad at him. He had that at home.

The other man sighed, and most of the fight went out of him. "Am I irritated right now that apparently you and my brother are conspiring behind my back? Yes. But that doesn't mean I want you to leave. This is the first chance in almost a year we've gotten to hang out. I'll get over it."

"You might not feel that way when I explain." Rodney sighed and then moved into the room, closing the door behind him.

"So tell me, and let me decide. Don't just disappear on me."

"I…ah…I contacted your brother as soon as we got back."

Those expressive eyebrows went almost to John's hairline. "From Atlantis?"

Rodney nodded silently. John did not look happy, but he didn't think he would after that revelation. He moved to sit down in the couch near where Sheppard was sitting. "More or less as soon as I had an internet connection."

"Why?"

Rodney took a deep breath, letting it out. Here goes nothing, he thought to himself. "Because I didn't think you would and I wasn't going to let you get stuck in some backwater town doing something you hated and pretending that it was just fine. I saw how much it hurt that you had to leave, that they forced you out. I knew you were going to need a…nudge in the right direction."

"Why didn't you tell me then? Or even when I first sent an email to Dave? And if you two had been talking, why did he wait for me to send an email to him? And was so surprised I had?"

"Because it had to be your idea."

"What if I had decided not to?"

"It was the best thing for you, really. We would have figured out something. I really did have your best interests at heart." He kept his eyes on his hands.

"So why is it okay for you to interfere in what I do, but you get furious with me when I try to do the same for you, done with the same intentions?"

Rodney scowled. "Because if I hadn't you'd be in that same flea bag hotel I found you in after they let you go."

"And I'm trying to get you out of your sister's basement and a teaching job that's making you miserable."

"I'm fine. I signed a contract for a two-year stint, so I'm stuck."

John finally sighed. "Tell you what. I'll agree not to get pissed at you for this, if you agree to stop being pissed at me when I try to help you."

"I don't need your help. I'm fine."

"So it's okay for you to meddle, but not me?"

"Look. I said I was sorry. But at the point that I did meddle, you needed help. I won't do it again." Rodney stood. He didn't want to argue anymore. He'd said his piece. He'd explained.

"Sit down." John made a face at him. "I think I'm more irritated about the double standard than anything else now."

"You can't just order me around. I said I was sorry." He crossed his arms over his chest and glared down at Sheppard.

"And I accept your apology. But I want the same rights you have, at the very least the right to not have you get pissed off at me if I even suggest stuff to you."

"I don't."

"Yes, you do."

"I do not."

"Rodney, even talking about the possibility of it right now has you defensive and getting annoyed with me."

He scowled at John. He did it for John's own good. He needed the help.

"You know I'm right."

Rodney shifted on his feet. He didn't like the way this conversation was going. He was just going to say good night and leave.

John just watched him, looking expectant.

"Look," Rodney said after a few minutes, hating the silence. "You needed the help."

"Maybe. But maybe I think you do, too."

"I have a job and a place to live."

"And you spend most of the time telling me how unhappy you are."

"I'm still settling in," he said defensively. He didn't want to admit how right John was.

"Just... promise me you won't get pissed off at me if I make a suggestion or try to help. You can say no thanks, just don't get mad at me for caring enough to want to help, okay? That's all I ask."

Rodney nodded stiffly. "Fine."

John sighed and gestured at the couch. "And you're still standing, hovering. Sit down, Rodney."

Rodney scowled. "I'm not a dog," he said. He moved to sit, ending up on the edge of the couch.

"Why are you so determined to always take what I say in the worst possible way?" John gave him a small smile. "You're my friend."

Rodney waved his hand. "You were the one falling apart. You needed the help."

"Why are we back on that? I didn't even mention that. Rodney... stop being so defensive. I'd like to think we've known each other long enough now to be past you worrying that I'm going to betray you or hurt you."

"People change," Rodney said quietly, looking down. He didn't want John to see the truth in his eyes, how he hated that John had Andrea. That he was jealous of what John had, of what Rodney helped him get.

"You can trust me."

"I do." He paused. "Mostly."

"Mostly? What does that mean?"

"I don't really trust anyone absolutely." Rodney snorted bitterly, shaking his head. "Not even myself."

"You can trust me."

"And I do," Rodney said, lifting his head, meeting John's eyes. "More than anyone else."

John actually leaned forward and put his hand on Rodney's knee. "You're the only person on Earth I'd trust my life to."

Rodney snorted, trying not to move away from the touch of John's hand. But it almost felt like it was burning him—the heat against his cold leg "You sure that's wise?"

"Absolutely." The absolute conviction in John's voice was a little overwhelming.

John had no idea how…hard this was. How much he wanted to believe him, to just let John fix a few things for him. Money would do that.

Finally, John squeezed his knee and let go. "It's getting late, and it's been a long day. Why don't we both get some sleep? I think Katie is making waffles for breakfast."

"Yeah, sure. That sounds great," Rodney said as he rose to his feet, rubbing a hand across his face. He was tired, exhausted—mentally and physically. "See you in the morning."

John actually stepped all the way into Rodney's personal space to put a hand on his shoulder. He could smell John's aftershave. "No worries, okay. You're on vacation. I wanted you to come here so you could relax."

Rodney stiffened at John's touch. "Right. Vacation," he said, moving away at the first chance he got.

John looked a little taken aback, but didn't stop him from walking out of the bedroom and across the hall to his own room. He slumped down on a chair, his head in his hands. That had gone…better and worse than he'd thought.

There was a knock on his door at some point later—Simon returning with his suitcase. Rodney took it from him with thanks before emptying it in the various drawers around the room. He stumbled into bed late, determined to make it up to John. He just had to figure out how to do that.

****

Operation: Make it up to John was going well, so far. The first order of business had been to simply agree to any and all suggestions he made about places to go and things to see and do. That had been harder to do than he thought, because there were some weird ass things that he wanted to do. But Rodney sucked it up and just nodded and smiled—and in some cases actually ended up enjoying himself.

And then there was the pathetic thrill of delight he got every time he made John smile, but Rodney tried not to dwell on that particular thought more than he should. It was better that way.

Andrea was exactly what he expected. She was drop-dead gorgeous and next to John they made the perfect couple. It gritted his teeth and smiled through all the interactions because she was John's girlfriend. And John was straight, very straight. He liked women.

Tonight John had invited Andrea over for dinner and to hang out and watch movies. It was something he and John normally did—even back in Atlantis. It was…weird to have her there. But John was oblivious to any and everything apart from the movie, popcorn, snacks, and beer.

Rodney glanced over at the two of them sitting curled up together on the couch. The perfect couple.

When he got up to go to the bathroom, he was surprised when Andrea followed him.

He glanced over his shoulder, narrowing his eyes at her. "I do know how to find my way."

"I know." She smiled and put her arm through his.

He tried to tug his arm free, but she hung on. "What do you want?"

"To chat." She smiled again. "You're John's best friend, and he talks about you pretty much all the time. I'd like to get to know you better."

Rodney snorted quietly. "Well, right now I have to piss and that's something you don't need to see."

"No, but I figured we could walk there and back together." Her face got more serious. "I get the feeling you don't like me very much, Rodney, and I just want to know what I can do different. I don't want to cause John pain by being at odds with you."

"I didn't say that."

"No, but I just get a feeling. Call it Girl Intuition."

Rodney snorted again as they paused in front of the bathroom. "As if that actually exists."

She let go of his arm. "I just know that you're one of the most important people in John's life, and I think, if he were forced to choose between you and almost anyone else, including his family, he would choose you. I don't want to force him to have to make that choice."

"I'm not making him make any kind of choice. We're friends. We live in two different countries." He shrugged. "What's more to say?"

"It's important to him that you and I at least get along, if nothing else. So tell me what I'm doing to turn you off, and I'll do what I can to mute it."

"Nothing," he said, looking away. It wasn't like he was going to tell her that he was jealous of her.

She handed him a card with a number and email address. "If you decide you're comfortable telling me, you can get me at either of these places."

"What exactly do you want me to tell you," he asked, looking at her, his gaze hard. "He obviously likes you. You're the perfect little socialite couple. I'm not going to do anything to rock that boat. John deserves every happiness he can get."

She looked at him closely. "Ahh. I see now."

"See what?"

She shook her head. "I'll see you back in the room. And for what it's worth, I'm sorry."

"What the hell are you going on about?" he asked. "You're the one who followed me to the bathroom."

She shrugged. "I'm sorry you feel like I'm usurping your position as his best friend. I'm not, and I don't honestly think anyone can, but I'm sorry you feel that way."

"I didn't say that. Don't put words in my mouth."

"Then tell me what it is you don't like about me."

"What's not to like? You're funny. You're reasonably intelligent. You're hot." He shrugged. "Like I said, you're good for him. He deserves every happiness he can get."

"But you don't like me, nevertheless."

"I don't think you're a gold digger, if that's any consolation."

She snorted. "Please, I have enough of my own."

"Yeah yeah," he said, waving his hand absently. "Everyone here is independently wealthy. I forget that. Just…don't screw him over."

"I won't. I promise you that."

"I guess only time will tell."

She nodded. "I'll meet you back in the movie room. John is probably wondering what happened to us."

Rodney snorted. "Doubtful. He has beer, popcorn, and a movie."

"And he's so terrified you and I will hate each other, I don't think he's paid any attention at all to anything on the screen tonight."

"What do you want me to tell you? Do I think he can do better than you? Then the answer is yes, I think he can."

"Fair enough. I'll work harder, then, to live up to what you think he should have."

"Honestly, I don't think you can. I don't think anyone can."

She smiled. "Probably not."

"But when everything is said and done, it really doesn't matter what either of us want. It's up to John to decide what's best for him."

"You're a good friend, Rodney McKay."

Rodney straightened. "Of course, I am. I left my job because of him."

"I don't think you know how much that meant to him. Still means."

"He tells me what a bad decision I made nearly every day. He thinks I should go back."

"He worries about you."

"Nothing to worry about. I'm fine."

"Just like he's fine so you shouldn't worry about him?"

"He doesn't have the common sense of a turnip, sometimes. He needs someone to protect him from himself."

She laughed. "You two are so much alike in the need to protect each other. It's cute."

Rodney crossed his arms over his chest. "Cute is not a word I would associate with either of us."

"That's because you're not a girl." She grinned.

"Definitely not a girl."

She laughed again, then waved at the bathroom. "Go relieve yourself, and we can chat more later."

Rodney scowled, but turned, moving into the bathroom. It didn't take him long to take care of business and Andrea was standing by the door when he came back out. "You know there are other bathrooms on this floor if you needed to go."

"I was waiting to walk back with you." She slipped her arm through his again.

Rodney tensed. "What do you really want from me?"

"I don't want anything from you." She shrugged. "I just want to be your friend."

"Everyone wants something."

"Nope, sometimes, people just want to be friends."

Rodney snorted. "No. Not in this world."

"Then it's up to me to change your opinion of humanity. A tall order, but I think I'm up to the job."

"Doubtful. I've seen too much," Rodney said as they walked back into the den. John's eyes were on them as soon as they stepped inside.

Andrea grinned. "I love a good challenge."

Rodney snorted, feeling John's eyes on him as he finally managed to untangle himself from Andrea's arm.

Andrea bounced back over to the couch. "Rodney and I were just talking about how I can change his view of the world to rainbows and kittens and sunshine."

"That's not going to happen."

"You say that now, but I'm hard to ignore."

"Actually," Rodney said, a little snidely, not caring. "No you're not."

"Rodney, be nice." John looked back and forth between them.

"You've known me for years. Since when am I nice?"

John smiled. "I know. Silly of me, sorry."

"I thought we were watching a movie," Rodney said, settling into his chair and reaching for another beer.

"We are." John hit play—apparently he had paused it when Rodney and Andrea took their little walk.

They watched the end of the movie, Rodney really not paying much attention to it. He tried to watch, but his eyes kept drifting back to John and Andrea, his mind spinning in smaller and smaller circles. The beer was probably only adding to the maudlin feeling. Vaguely he knew he probably had been spending too much time at the bottom of a bottle, but he really didn't care.

When it was over, Andrea headed home, and John walked upstairs with him. "So..."

"So what?"

John shrugged. "It looks like you have something on your mind."

"There's always something on my mind," Rodney said with a snort.

"Yeah, but this seems like something... I don't know, different I guess. This was supposed to be a vacation for you to get away from everything. Why do I get the feeling you're not really happy to be here?"

"I'm happy. Perfectly happy," Rodney said, covering his mouth as he burped up his last beer.

John gave him a disbelieving look.

"What? Is this about me refusing to celebrate Christmas?"

"No." John sighed. "I just... I want you to be happy I guess."

"I'm hanging out with you. We're doing stuff. What's wrong with that?"

"Nothing at all. You just don't seem to be enjoying it."

"Of course I'm enjoying it. Why wouldn't I be enjoying it? You're catering to my every whim. I don't get that at home."

John shrugged, but, thankfully, let it drop. Telling your straight best friend that you're feeling off because you're jealous of his girlfriend and want to be the one in his bed... yeah. No.

Even a little tipsy he knew better than to blurt that out. "So, what are you planning for tomorrow?"

"Whatever you'd like to do."

Rodney rolled his eyes as they came to a stop in the hall outside their bedrooms. "And like I keep telling you, you're the expert here. I have no idea what there is to do."

"What are you in the mood for?"

Rodney said the first thing that popped into his head. "Sex." He gaped a little at what came out of his mouth, and continued a minute later. "Not that you're going to hire me a hooker. And apparently I'm a little more toasted than I thought."

John stared, and then started laughing. "Well, there is a pretty large adult shop in town we could go visit. I've never been there, but I'm game if you are."

"No, I'm good. I should just go and sleep this off."

John clapped him on the back. "We'll find you someone, Rodney. I know we will. The right person just hasn't come across our radar yet."

Rodney snorted, managing to keep his mouth closed.

"Night, buddy."

"Night," Rodney said, moving into his bedroom and shutting the door behind him, leaning against it. He let out a deep breath. That had been close.

He pushed himself away from the door and wandered into the bathroom, going through his nightly routine, his brain finally slowing down. Lately, alcohol was the only thing that did that—either that or exhaustion.

The rest of his vacation passed more or less uneventfully. John dragged him to even more places—sometimes with Andrea—and it was almost…nice. The day before Rodney was scheduled to leave he planned an entire day of movie watching and hanging out.

And it was just them. Which was nicer than Rodney wanted to admit.

They argued about the bad science in the movies and the improbability of the various situations the so-called heroes faced. It was like old times again.

They were up until late that night, both of them nearly passed out on the couch.

He was going to miss this, Rodney realized.

John seemed just as reluctant to end the night as he was, which was something at least. Even if they could never be more, at least he knew he was John's best friend.

"You're almost asleep on the couch."

"So are you."

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Are not. And what are you, five?"

"You started it."

Rodney rolled his eyes and chuckled. "Okay. Now you sound like you are three."

John pitched his voice high and whined. "But Roooooooodney! I don't wannnnnaaaaa go to bed!"

"Oh god! Stop!" Rodney clamped hands over his ears. "I'll get enough of that tomorrow when I go home."

The other man chuckled and grinned at him. "Just had to throw that in."

"That's just…uncalled for."

"But funny. You should have seen your face."

"Yeah, yeah," Rodney said, looking at John sourly. "Just wait until your nephew is older and a terror."

"Yeah, but I can just be fun Uncle John and then send him home."

"They live here."

"Which makes it even easier to send him home."

Rodney snorted. "That's just not fair."

John chuckled again.

Rodney sighed, letting his eyes close as he leaned his head back against the couch. "I can't believe I've been here six weeks."

"I know. It feels like you just got here."

"It went a lot faster than I thought. I'm not looking forward to the new semester of stupid kids."

John nodded. "We should make plans now for you to come for a longer visit in the summer. Or maybe I could come up there. Or we could go somewhere else completely. I've always wanted to see the Great Barrier Reef."

"It takes two days to get there. No. I'm not spending that long in a plane with the great unwashed."

"Okay. We'll pick somewhere closer then."

"We'll see," Rodney said. "You'll probably have other plans by then."

"Hardly. Besides, that's what vacations are supposed to be. You put the rest of your life on hold and just go relax for a week or two."

"I doubt Andrea is going to want to spend her vacation with me."

"She wouldn't be invited, Rodney. It would be a... a guy's vacation. No girls allowed."

Rodney snorted, opening his eyes to look at John. "Like she'd let you have a guy's vacation."

"Andrea is my friend, not my keeper. She doesn't get to tell me what I am and am not allowed to do. Just like I don't tell her what to do. She has girlfriends, and would probably take the opportunity to do something similar."

"I guess we'll see who's right and who's wrong, won't we?"

"Yeah. But don't worry about it. Let's just... plan something. Even if it's just one of us coming for a visit. I don't want to go a year or more just talking on the phone."

"Let's just…wait and see."

The other man sighed. "All right, I'm too tired to wear you down on it. Yet."

"And that's not going to happen."

John just waved his protests away.

"So my flight's at 11. Who's driving me? Simon?"

John leaned over and gave him a light punch in the arm. "Me, stupid. You really think I'd let someone else take you?"

"You're the big exec now. You have plebes to do stuff like drive people to the airport."

"And you're my best friend. I'm not just... handing you off to someone like a client. I'll take you."

"You don't have to. I won't be offended if you have Simon drive me."

"Not gonna happen."

"I'm just saying that I wouldn't be offended if you actually have to work," Rodney said.

"Again, not going to happen. You're more important than some financial stuff."

Rodney snorted. "So, what time are we leaving?"

"We'll head out about eight, to make sure we have enough time to get you there. Since it's a first class ticket, you don't have to wait in the main security lines, you can use the priority ones, but I'd rather get you there early and you can go use the lounge, rather than go later. If we're up early enough there will be coffee and breakfast downstairs before we go."

"It's already after midnight."

"I know." John grinned.

"I still have to pack."

"See, now that's what the help is for. I asked Simon to do it for you tonight. When you get upstairs, what you need for tonight and a change of clothes for tomorrow should be out, and everything else will be packed."

"You what!" Rodney exclaimed, sitting up, finally wide awake.

"Relax. He knows better than to touch your laptop or anything. He just took care of clothes and toiletries. I knew we'd be up late watching movies, and I didn't want you to have to stay up all night packing on top of it."

"I don't need someone pawing through my underwear. It's bad enough that the TSA does it."

John rolled his eyes. "They've been cleaning it for you the entire time you've been here, or did you not wonder how you never seemed to have dirty clothes around?"

"I still don't need someone picking up after me," he sniffed. Yeah. There was no need for them to know how many times he was jacking off at night.

"It's their job. Honestly, it took me a while to get used to it, too. I nearly scared the maids to death a few times when they startled me. They learned to make sure I was out before going in to do anything."

"Well, I don't like it."

"Unfortunately, there's not much I can do about it. This is still technically my father's house even though he doesn't live in it anymore, and he insists all the rooms being used get cleaned on a daily basis. Rooms not being used are 'aired out' once a month, whatever that means."

"Now I know why I can never find anything," he grumbled.

"A little late to worry about it at this point, isn't it?"

"Yeah yeah, whatever," he said, scowling at John who was smiling.

"It's going to suck tomorrow. I've missed having you around. This is the first time this place has really felt like home to me."

"You'll forget I was ever here soon enough. Isn't Andrea coming tomorrow for dinner?"

"Not the same." John gave him a small smile. "It's weird that your bitching has become my baseline for what's normal and right with the world. I think you've ruined me."

Rodney snorted. "There's something very wrong about that."

"Tell me about it." John laughed as he stood up and held a hand out to Rodney to pull him off the couch. "Let's go get a few hours of sleep."

Rodney hesitated for a moment before taking John's offered hand.

Once on his feet. John clapped him on the shoulder as they headed for the rooms that were right across the hall from each other.

Rodney tried not to think about what it would be like tomorrow in his cold basement apartment in his sister's house. He had gotten used to things here. It was really nice here. And John was here.

John kept asking him to stay. Kept trying to get him to get out of teaching and start his own lab, or go start an engineering firm with John. But Rodney was resisting precisely because he didn't want to get too comfortable.

And there was that whole illegal thing. If anyone caught him with the Atlantis database—or even the small section he had at home—he'd be in a world of trouble and pain. John didn't need any more complications or problems.

It would be better if they just made a clean break, but Rodney couldn't do it.

Not that John would let him. And better or worse, Rodney wasn't going to push for it.

He managed to stumble out of bed at seven and had breakfast downstairs—even though he was semi-conscious. Rodney hated how awake John was at this ungodly hour.

Bastard had probably already been jogging, too.

He grabbed a mug of coffee from the sideboard before dropping down into one of the chairs.

"Morning." John smiled at him.

"Yes, I will give you that," Rodney grumbled into his cup.

"Make sure you eat something with that coffee."

"Why?"

"Because airplane food sucks."

"I like it. It's uninteresting and predictable. You know exactly what you're getting. Just like MREs."

I still don't get how you like those."

"They're safe," Rodney said with a shrug. "I have a healthy sense of self-preservation."

"True. But I promise you, nothing here has citrus either. We haven't poisoned you while you've been here yet, have we?"

"No," Rodney said, sipping at his coffee. He tipped the cup and realized he could see the bottom. How did that happen so fast?

He got up to get more, and John was behind him, handing him a plate. "Food too."

"I'm still working my way through my coffee."

"You can have all the coffee you want, but you need to eat at the same time."

Rodney turned and scowled, but John just shoved the plate at him again.

"I know you can ignore me and not eat healthy as soon as you get to the airport, but humor me this last time, okay?"

"I always humor you," he said, taking the plate and putting some eggs and breakfast potatoes on it.

Smiling now that he had gotten his way, John grabbed a plate and a few items himself and followed Rodney back to the table.

Rodney dug into his food, ignoring the knowing look from across the table.

They both dragged breakfast out as long as possible, but it finally got to the point where they needed to leave for the airport, or Rodney was going to risk missing the place. Tempting, but no.

The ride to the airport was quiet. John kept looking at him, until finally Rodney had enough of the weird wide-long looks. "What? Do I have food on my face?"

The other man actually turned a little red. "No. I'm just... This is a lot harder than I thought it would be. I'm really liking having you here."

"I live in Canada."

"I know."

"We talk every day."

"I know that too."

"I think I talk to you more than I talk to my sister," Rodney said, the corner of his mouth turning up in a half smile. "And that's pretty hard to do seeing that I live in the same house with her and you're in another country."

John gave him a smile in return. "It's not the same, but yeah. I talk to you more than I do Dave and my Father combined."

"Nothing's going to change."

"I miss Atlantis. I mean, I miss the people and the job and the city, but what I'm finding I miss most is just living there, right down the hall from all the people I cared about."

"You could email them, you know. I gave you Carson's info. And Zelenka. And Lorne."

"It's not that. I'm talking to them on and off now. It's more being there. We could hang out and watch a movie or have lunch or bitch or whatever because we were all there. This living several thousand miles apart thing sucks."

"It's not like we have much choice," Rodney said quietly. Although, in his case, it was probably for the better.

John sighed. "I know. But still..."

"What do you want me to tell you? I have a job. You have a job."

"Nothing. There's nothing that can be changed, and I know that. Like I said, I didn't expect it to be so hard to let you leave."

Rodney sighed quietly, looking out the window. "Sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry about. It's just the way it is."

"I know. Maybe I should have just stayed home. Maybe it would have been better."

John reached over and smacked him in the arm. "Hardly. I've had fun, and I'm glad you came. And you will come again, if I have to fly up to Canada and drag your sorry ass back."

"Ow! Hey! You know I bruise easily."

"Then stop making stupid statements."

"I am incapable of doing that. Genius here," he said, glancing over at John.

"Which makes it all the more amazing when you do."

Rodney snorted. "Idiot."

John just chuckled.

"Why do I let you insult me?"

"Because I do it with such flair and panache."

Rodney turned and looked at John for a long moment before bursting into laugher. "You are an idiot."

John grinned.

"Idiot," Rodney muttered as the airport came into view.

"Shoot me a text or call me when you get in safe, okay?"

"No. I think I'll let you waste away by the phone," Rodney said, rolling his eyes. "Of course I will. Did you lose more brain cells on the drive here? Maybe Simon should have taken me."

"Then you would have had me calling every minute and bugging the hell out of you. This is much better all around."

"Maybe," Rodney said as they pulled up to the terminal, John slowing to a stop outside the doors leading to the ticketing and bag drop off for his airline. "Well. I guess this is it."

"Yeah."

"I don't want you speeding back to the house. You're going to get yourself killed one of these days."

John smiled. "I'll be careful."

"You better be," Rodney said, fussing with the belt of his seatbelt.

"I will. You, too. Be safe."

"I will, but it's not really up to me. It's really up to the pilot."

"I hate not being the one at the helm. At least then I'd know you were safe."

"I'm actually surprised you don't have a plane," Rodney said, glancing at John who was watching him.

"I'm waiting."

"For…? Good weather? A sale? What?"

John gave him a small grin. "For you to decide to join me in starting a company where we can build me the coolest plane ever seen on Earth together."

Rodney turned away, looking out the window as he undid his seatbelt. One of the security guards was eyeing the car. He needed to get moving. "We've been through that already."

"I know. But I'm not going to give up the dream, and I can wait until you're ready, too."

The security guard was headed their way. "I need to go before you get a ticket."

"Yeah." John reached over and squeezed his shoulder. "I'll talk to you when you land."

Rodney nodded and climbed out of the car, the guard stopping mid-step. He watched them as John pulled his luggage out of the car, setting it down in the curb next to Rodney. "So. I guess I'll talk to you in a few hours."

"Yeah." They shook hands, neither of them really wanting to let go for a long moment.

"It's only Canada, you know. It's not another planet."

"That would be easier." John's smile returned.

Rodney snorted. "Don't be an idiot. Drive carefully. I can't berate you until I get home."

"Yeah yeah. Try not to kill any students this semester."

"Hey!" Rodney said, turning back to John. "I didn't. I only made five of them cry—and three of them were already criers before I got there."

The other man laughed. "Go catch your flight, and I'll talk to you later."

Rodney nodded and headed into the airport, dragging his suitcase behind him. He waited by the window, watching as John climbed back in his car and drove away. Even though Rodney hated to watch him leave, it was for the better. He needed distance. John had a girlfriend.

He nodded to himself. He wouldn't be back unless there was a good reason. It was just…too painful.

The flight was better than he anticipated and Jeannie was waiting for him as soon as he walked through the doors from baggage claim.

She gave him a hug, then started grilling him. "So, how do we like her? Is she good enough for John?"

Rodney sighed quietly. "She's fine."

"Just fine?"

Rodney shrugged. "No one is going to live up to my standards. She's fine."

Jeannie nodded. "True. But is she at least nice? Not going to hurt him?"

"She's nice," he said as Jeannie led him out of the airport and to the short-term parking lot.

"Nice isn't a ringing endorsement."

"She's pretty. She's not stupid. They make a good looking couple."

"Looks aren't everything."

"I don't know what you expect me to tell you," he said, already exasperated with his sister and he'd been home less than five minutes. "Caleb talked to her. Ask him."

"He didn't meet her in person."

"And?" he asked as he threw his bag into the trunk and climbed into the passenger seat.

She rolled her eyes at him. "Why are you being so... unhelpful?"

"I'm not being unhelpful. I don't know what you want me to tell you!" Rodney huffed, glaring at her. "She's a girl who John doesn't think he's dating, but he really is. She's nice enough, but I think he can do better. What else do you want me to tell you?"

"He doesn't think he's dating her?"

"That's what he claims, but they're all over each other," Rodney said as Jeannie finally started the car, cranking up the heat.

"Has he slept with her?"

"He claims no," he said with a sniff.

Jeannie rolled her eyes. "Men."

"What! I think they're dating. Dating is not always about sex."

"I wasn't talking about you, idiot. I was talking about him."

Rodney huffed. "Well, then, at least we can agree on that."

She rolled her eyes again as she pulled out of the parking lot. "How did everything else go?"

"Good. Fine. John dragged me all over the place. I didn't think there was that much to see in Kentucky, honestly."

"A lot of male bonding, I assume."

"We watched a lot of movies. Hung out." Rodney shrugged. "Is that what male bonding is?"

"Yes, that would be it."

"Then, yes," Rodney said as his phone buzzed in his pocket.

He saw it was John calling.

Rodney grimaced. He hadn't called or texted yet. "Hello?"

"Are you dead, or did you just decide to worry me, since you landed an hour ago?"

Rodney rolled his eyes. "I'm obviously not dead if I'm answering the phone."

"Hmph."

"I just got in the car with Jeannie. We're driving home now."

"And you didn't call while you were waiting for your bags because?"

"You can't make calls before you go through customs. It's illegal. They frown on people when you do that and they tend to throw you in jail."

John harrumphed again. "All right, I'll let it slide this time, since I know you're there safe. Tell Jeannie I said hi."

"I will. Are you working?"

"I'm in the office, but I don't know how much you could classify what I'm doing as work."

"You have a lot to catch up on," Rodney said, watching the scenery fly by.

"Not really. Most of what I have in the works is all longer term stuff."

"Well, then, take the rest of the week off. Have fun with Andrea."

The other man huffed. "I'm not going to sleep with Andrea."

"Yes, you are."

"No, I'm not. I really have no interest in getting into bed with her."

"Sure, you don't," Rodney said rolling his eyes. He ignored the weird look Jeannie kept sending him. "Look. I'll call you later."

"All right. I'll talk to you later."

Rodney hung up and pocketed his phone. Jeannie kept looking at him. "What? John says hi."

"You two just spent six weeks together and you've already started the constant calling again."

"I was supposed to text him when I landed. I didn't get the chance. He was calling to complain."

"Uh huh."

Rodney sighed. "What? Just say it and stop talking around it already."

"You two are weird."

"We're friends. We worked in a high-pressure environment. It doesn't just…go away."

"Uh huh."

Rodney gritted his teeth. "I hate when you do that. You know I hate it."

She actually grinned at him. "I know."

"I hate you."

"No you don't. I'm your sister, so I'm supposed to irritate the hell out of you."

He pressed his lips into a thin line. "Well, you got that part right."

"Hey, you irritate the hell out of me too, so we're even."

Rodney was silent the rest of the way back to the house, the tension he'd managed to lose after six weeks of vacation back in less than sixteen minutes. He had so much to do, between the projects he was working on personally to the classes which started in less than a week.

Fortunately, Caleb was apparently out with Madison, and Jeannie left him alone for the moment, so he was able to head down to his apartment to unpack and figure out what to do next.

There wasn't much time left in the day after his travel, so dinner and a little work were on the agenda. He'd work on school stuff tomorrow.

He tried to ignore the weird feeling in his chest every time he thought about telling John something that came to mind. He'd gotten used to that…easiness.

But this was for the better.

Really.

He sighed and rubbed his hand over his face. Who was he kidding? It was all painful, no matter which way he looked at it.

****

The new semester wasn't any better than the last one. In some ways, it was worse. Meyers had to be in a continual state of man-PMS if his attitude was any indication. Just because Rodney's classes were liked better was no reason for Meyers to give him a hard time. He just needed to suck it up and deal.

Or maybe it had to do with the fact that Rodney had managed to get one grant from the government to purchase new equipment for the lab—something Meyers hadn't been able to do.

Whatever it was that had crawled up Meyer's ass and died there was just making each and every day a new and painful adventure.

Rodney had been careful to include a few seemingly innocent clauses in his grant that gave him full rights to decide how the money was spent, instead of having to get Meyers' approval, so today he was going over the lab equipment lists and trying to decide where it was best spent.

There were lots of options. He was leaning toward some new high-end computer systems to start. They needed stronger processors to be able to handle some of the simulations he wanted to push into his classes this year.

Ashley was handling his office hours, but she popped her head in. "Professor McKay? I have a quick question for you."

"Sure, what?" He didn't even look up from his papers.

"The wormhole assignment—did you want a full workup of what the hypothetical equations would be to open one, or just proof of concept?"

"What do you think?"

"Proof of concept is easier, since it's not a full set of equations on exactly what would be required. But a full workup is a huge undertaking. I'm wondering if we should have it be proof of concept for now, and then break the class up into teams to tackle specific parts of it as a class project."

Rodney glanced up at her and then leaned back in his chair. He narrowed his eyes. "You think so?"

She stepped further into his office. "I was just thinking about it, and it would be kind of cool to spend the whole semester breaking it down into parts and analyzing everything completely, debating equations and stuff."

"For the entire semester?"

"Not as our only assignments, obviously. But a lot of us think the concept of wormholes is really fascinating, so it would be awesome to be able to really spend the time to tackle them a bit more in-depth."

"How about we schedule it two weeks of discussions and we can see where it goes from there?"

She nodded. "That would be fantastic!"

"So schedule it. Did you want anything else? I'm in the middle of picking out new equipment."

She shook her head. "That was it. I've got a few people asking about it, so I wanted to see what you had in mind before I responded."

"So, you have your answer. Go spread the word, but I fully expect you to get your paper in on time. I don't want to hear any excuses that you couldn't get it done because you were too busy with other things."

"No worries, Professor. I'll have it in on time."

"I don't want to hear your bellyaching. I hear enough from the first-year students."

She laughed and headed back out.

Rodney chucked to himself and got back to work himself, picking out several computers and servers along with some new software they needed. There were so many choices, so many products. He almost felt like a kid. He was a little startled, however, when a pile of papers dropped onto his desk, making him jump.

"What the—" he said, glancing up right into the angry face of Andy Meyers.

"What the hell is this, McKay?"

"What is what?" Rodney asked with a scowl. "I have no idea what you're going on about if you don't be a little more specific."

"This!" Meyers waved at the stack of papers. "I just had this dumped on my desk with your name on it."

Rodney held out his hand and Meyers shoved the papers in it. After a brief glance, he started smiling. "Oh. Grant number two was accepted. That's great. Thanks for bringing this over."

"Grant number two?" Meyers was starting to turn red. "What the hell is that for?"

"This one gives us some money to bring in some high-level scientists as speakers. With the money from this grant we can host a conference if we wanted."

"I didn't approve that!"

"Yes, you did. And besides, it's not like it's coming out of your budget. This is all new money that we can use to bring a little respect to the science department. Put us on the map."

Meyers narrowed his eyes. "You will not bring anyone to this campus on behalf of this department until I've approved them."

"Actually, you signed off on all of the grant requests and you gave me the final decision to make these kinds of choices. You, and I quote 'do not want to be bothered by all of these damn stupid ideas and projects you keep coming up with'. I took you at your word." Rodney leaned back in his chair, a smug smile on his face.

Meyers turned even more red. "You think you're so clever, don't you McKay? Well, we'll just see, won't we?"

"You know, if you want, I can contact the other four grant offices and tell them to take us out of consideration. I thought you wanted me to put the college and this program on the map."

"Just wait, McKay. You'll get yours." Meyers sneered at him and stormed out.

Rodney let out a long breath and shook his head. Some days he couldn't win.

But hey, he had gotten the grant. He got on the phone to some former colleagues to start lining up guest speakers for his class.

If Meyers didn't want to take advantage of it, so be it. Rodney considered giving the biologist a call to see if he wanted to invite someone. Maybe later. If he had some money left.

****

The last thing Rodney was expecting was a phone call from Andrea. He'd emailed with her a handful of times, but generally tried to stay far away. It was easier for both of them.

But for her to call him…

That didn't bode well. He felt like his stomach was somewhere in the neighborhood of his toes when he answered the phone. "Hello? Andrea? What's wrong?"

"Rodney?"

"Of course it's me. You called me. What's wrong? What did John do?"

He actually heard her swallow. "His father had a heart attack. The whole family is in the hospital and they just got the news."

"Sorry?" Rodney said, more of a reflex than anything. "You have to give me the information."

"Yes. Right now we're at the hospital. I'm getting together numbers for him for the funeral home and everything, just in case. It doesn't look good. And John…it's like he's completely shut down. I know you guys are close, and I know he'll at least want to talk to you later. I wanted to give you a heads up."

"I'll be there on the first flight I can get out," he said wrestling to get his laptop open. "If there's something tonight, I'll be on it tonight."

"What's your email address? I'll send you all the hospital information, and if we're not going to be here, I can send you the updates."

"Sent it to my gmail. RodneyMcKayPhDPhD at gmail dot com," he said as everything booted. You can text me the information, too. Whatever's faster."

"I'll keep you posted. Right now... it doesn't look good. The doctors are doing all they can, but..."

"I know. I'm coming no matter what. I just have to get a flight. I'll text you to let you know when."

"I'll make sure Simon is at the airport to get you as soon as you have all the details."

"I'll let you know my plans as soon as I make them," Rodney said, a million things racing through his mind. "Thanks for calling."

"I knew you'd want to know, and John is trying to be the strong one. His mother is a complete wreck, and Dave and Charlotte aren't a whole lot better. He won't call you until he knows he can do it without breaking down, and he needs you here."

"What do you think I'm doing? I'm going to make a reservation, but I can't do that and talk to you. I'll let you know my plans and just…keep him sane. Okay?"

"I will. Thanks." She hung up.

Rodney closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths before he headed upstairs. Caleb and Jeannie were on the couch watching some chick flick movie.

Jeannie glanced over. "Mer, what happened? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"I have to go to the States," he said, pausing by the overstuffed chair. "It's John's father. He's in the hospital. Heart attack. I just…I needed to let you know."

Jeannie gasped and stood up. "Oh my god. When did it happen? Is he okay?"

Rodney shook his head. "Andrea said it didn't look good. I know it's late, but I want to see if there's a flight out tonight."

"We're going with you." Jeannie headed for their computer. "John will need all the love he can get around him at a time like this."

"It's going to cost a fortune, Jeannie," he said, following her over to the computer. "You don't need to go."

"Yes we do. John is essentially part of the family, and that's what families do. We might fight and pick at each other, but when times get tough, we band together."

Rodney glanced over at Caleb who only shrugged at him.

Jeannie was already pulling up websites. "It looks like the next flight out leaves at six tomorrow morning. There's one layover and would get us in to Kentucky at noon."

"Nononono. That's not good enough. I want to leave tonight."

"The last flight out left an hour ago." Jeannie went and checked other airlines. "There's one going out of another airport tonight, but there's a really long layover in Chicago and it would get you in about the same time as the six am flight."

Rodney sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "Fine. Whichever one you want."

To his surprise, she actually stood and pulled him into a hug. "I know. I promise. We will get there as fast as it's possible."

"He just… I need to be there."

She nodded. "And we'll get you there. For now, why don't you call the school and anyone else who will need to know you'll be out of town? Then you can pack. That will keep you occupied for a while at least. I'll get the tickets booked and get our stuff together."

"I'll call the school," Caleb said, standing. "I'll take care of that. Go and pack."

Rodney just looked at the two of them, blinking in surprise.

Jeannie let him go and made a shooing motion. "We love him too. Now go get packed."

"But…" Rodney said, already shuffling to the stairs to his apartment. "I didn't say that."

"You didn't have to. Now pack."

Rodney scowled at her, but headed downstairs, shoving clothes in a suitcase, not really paying much attention. He was pulling together his toiletries when Jeannie wandered down.

"Tickets are booked and we're checked in. I already printed out the boarding passes and have them in my purse so we can go straight through to security."

"You…what? Sorry?" He blinked at her.

She hugged him again. "He's going to be fine. He's got his family around him, and we'll be there in less than twenty-four hours."

Rodney awkwardly returned the hug. "Ah…thank you."

She let him go and wandered over, where she tisked over his disorganized suitcase and began to re-fold all the clothes. "Nothing to thank me for. Like I said: we're family, and that includes John. We might bicker, but when times are tough, everything else is put aside to help everyone through it."

"You…" he sighed watching her, but finished his sentence a little weakly. "…don't have to do that."

"If I don't, you'll be rumpled for the entire visit." She look up and gave him a small smile. "Plus, it gives me something to do, too. Is this everything you're bringing?"

"I guess. I don't even know how long I'll be there."

"You should bring a few more things, then." She started going through his drawers, adding to his now neatly-packed luggage.

Rodney just stood there, watching her work. It was a little disconcerting, honestly. He knew he should stop her, but all he could think about was how long it was taking for him to get to Kentucky and to John.

When she was done, she nodded to herself. "Okay. We're going to leave for the airport at three. If you can take a nap, you probably should."

"It's what? Midnight?" Rodney asked, looking at the cable box below his television. It was blinking 11:53 at him.

"Yeah. I know. But it's going to be a long night, and once we're there, they're going to need us to be the strong ones, since I doubt any of them are sleeping. So if we can rest now, we'll be ready to take over and let the Sheppards get some sleep once we arrive."

Rodney nodded, rubbing his face. "I know. It's just…I need to be there."

"I know. But once we're there, he'll need you to be awake and able to do what he's going to be too exhausted physically and emotionally to do."

"I know," he said with a scowl. "I know what I have to do, but I can't do anything until I'm actually there."

"Which is why you're going to at least sit on the couch and put on something mindless. Even if you can't sleep, what John needs you to do right now is rest as much as possible."

"I'm not sleeping on the couch," he said, moving toward his bed. "I'll be crippled for weeks. Just…make sure someone wakes me."

She nodded. "I've already set the alarms, and we're going to try and rest, too."

"Okay," he said, watching her head to the stairs. "Thanks," he said quietly, making her pause, one foot on the bottom tread.

She looked over, and gave him one of her rare simple smiles. "You're welcome."

The next morning was as nightmarish as he thought it would be. Surprisingly Jeannie didn't complain or argue with him. She just kept feeding him coffee and pastries and snacks.

And then Simon was there to meet them and gave them the bad news. Patrick Sheppard had died from the heart attack he suffered last night. He helped them get the rental van and then led the way to the hospital. Once there they headed up to the floor where the family was, Madison was the first one out of the elevator, running down the hallway before anyone could stop her.

She ran straight to John, who was looking... pretty bad. "Maddie?"

"Uncle Mer told us about your daddy," she said, squeezing him tight as Rodney, Jeannie, and Caleb all crowded in behind her.

"He..." John looked up and caught Rodney's eye. The gratitude was almost overwhelming. "How...?"

Jeannie answered as Rodney moved closer to John, aiming for the empty chair. "First flight out and lots of coffee."

"But…I just left Rodney a voicemail about an hour and a half ago..." John was clinging to Madison like she was a teddy bear.

"Andrea called me last night," Rodney said, softly, contemplating the right manly way to comfort his friend. In a way, he wished he was Madison. It was easy for her. "I would have been here sooner, but there were no flights until this morning."

"She..." John looked at Rodney as he sat down next to the other man. There were dark circles under his eyes, and Rodney doubted he had slept in at least two days.

"We're here, John. We'll help," Jeannie said, slipping an arm around Caleb's waist.

John dropped his head, and Rodney was close enough to see the moisture glistening at the corners of his eyes. "Thank you," he whispered.

Rodney reached out, tentatively sliding his arm around John's back as Dave introduced himself to Jeannie and Caleb. Rodney patted John on the back. "I'm sorry we weren't here sooner."

"No, it's... I didn't expect you at all... Thank you..." John actually leaned into him.

"Nothing to thank us for. You're family. Of course we're going to come. And besides, it snowed yesterday and there's three feet on the ground and I have no intention of wrenching out my back shoveling it," he grumbled, half out of habit, just wanting to see a smile on his friend's face.

He got the reaction he was looking for. John's laugh was a little hysterical, but it made his eyes shine for a moment.

Rodney helped John fill out the rest of the paperwork and they eventually got everyone together to head back to the house—the mansion. Surprisingly Andrea volunteered to sit in the back of the mini-van with Madison, letting Rodney ride next to John. He listened as John checked in with Katie at the house, finding out that things were underway.

Rodney patted John's arm, wishing there was something more he could do to help.

Once they were underway, John seemed to lean into Rodney again, although he looked like he was starting to zone out. Rodney would be surprised if he were actually tracking anything at this point.

Rodney patted John's arm again.

John seemed to notice where he was again, and gave Rodney a tired smile. "Thanks again for coming guys."

"We had to come as soon as we heard," Jeannie replied, shifting in her seat to look back at them.

"It means a lot." John's expression went a little lost. "God, this is all so sudden. He was fine. I talked to him yesterday."

She tugged at the seatbelt, adjusting it, giving him a smile. "Things happen, John. But we're here to help."

"I wish I could have introduced you to everyone under better circumstances, but I'm really glad you're all here."

"Just let us know how we can help you." Jeannie said. Rodney looked at his sister, narrowing his eyes. She was never this nice to him. Maybe she was replaced by a pod person or something.

"I will." John smiled a little again, then looked out the window. He was still leaning into Rodney enough that he could feel the heat the other man was giving off.

He and Jeannie played this weird, silent communication game or argument or something the rest of the way to the house. And when they pulled in the driveway and she took one look at the size of the house, Rodney got another look. He'd hear more about it later, he was sure. She gestured for him to help John who was more or less asleep next to him.

As soon as the van rolled to a stop he gently woke John and helped him out, his friend only waking up when he was on his feet.

"What...?" John looked around, confused.

"Don't worry about anything. You're going to take a little nap right now," Rodney said as he led John down the hall toward his room. Thank god he knew where everything was.

"I... there's so much to do..." John was actually slurring his words.

"Sleep first," Rodney said as he got John in his room, helping him undress so he was comfortable enough to sleep. He pressed him into the mattress.

Before he could pull away, John had grabbed his hand, holding it tight. "Thanks, Rodney. Glad you're here."

"No place else to be. Rest. We'll be here when you wake up," Rodney said simply, softly. It was the truth.

"'Kay." John gave him a small smile so full of trust it was almost overwhelming before he lost the battle to keep his eyes open.

Rodney quietly closed the door as he stepped out into the hall, smiling his thanks at Simon as the man put his suitcase in the same room he'd used last time. He moved down the hall to find Jeannie and make sure she was settled. He found Caleb, instead, wandering around in the study.

When he noticed Rodney, Caleb gestured around. "Wow. I didn't know John lived in a place like this. It's amazing."

"It's a family house, or something," Rodney said with a shrug. "Where's everyone? Jeannie put Madison down for a nap?"

"She's trying, but now that we're here, Maddie is all wound up."

Rodney chuckled. "You can walk her around the stables. Aren't kids supposed to like animals?"

"If she won't settle down, I might try that." Caleb smiled. "She's overtired, so if we can just get her to stay still for a few minutes, she'll fall asleep."

"Hopefully. They're out back somewhere," he said, gesturing vaguely. "Simon can direct you."

"John's brother and his wife went to go lay down, and they took his mother with them. I think the whole family finally collapsed, which is a good thing. Andrea said they had been at the hospital since early last night."

Rodney nodded. "It wouldn't surprise me. I'm going to get something to eat and then take a nap myself. You might want to try."

"I will once Jeannie comes back. Where's the dining room?"

"Just down the hall," Rodney said, moving to the doorway and pointing. "You'll get used to it quickly enough. I'm in the room across from John, that way somewhere."

Caleb nodded. "We're in that room there, with Madison next door in an adjoining room."

"Guest quarters," Rodney said with a nod. "I remember it from my tour."

Shaking his head, Caleb looked around. "I've never been in a house this big before."

"You'll get used to it. I did. Makes everything else seem really small afterward." Although, Rodney considered with a hum to himself, it was nothing compared to Atlantis.

In the dining room he found the cook, Katie, putting out small finger foods that would be all right left out for most of the day. "Mister Rodney. Good to see you again, although I wish it were a happier reason."

"Me, too," he said, grabbing a few things he liked—and Katie knew he liked. "You baked for me?"

"As soon as I heard you were coming, I locked up all the citrus and started making those pastries you loved so much last time."

"Thanks, Katie," he said with a smile. "I appreciate it."

"Cooking is all I know how to do, so if it will help bring some comfort to the house, then I plan to bake up a storm." She patted his arm.

"I'm going to take these and head upstairs to take a nap. I'll be ready for dinner though."

She nodded. "I think most people are doing the same, that's why I'm putting out things everyone can graze on as they wake up and wander."

"Good good," he said with a nod. "And keep and eye on my niece. She's a little insane and can do with less sugar. Oh. And my in-laws have a thing with meat. They're tree-hugging vegetarians."

She smiled. "I'll keep it all in mind. Thank you, and go get some rest." She swatted him on the ass.

"Hey! I bruise easily, you know."

She laughed and hustled him out of the dining room.

Rodney ate his snack on the way up to his room wishing things were better, wishing John didn't have to go through this whole…thing. It was unsettling how upset and…weak he seemed. It was disconcerting. It was almost the same as when John had been told he was going to Earth and it made Rodney itch to fix it.

He ended up poking his head in John's room, making sure he was still sleep before heading into his own room. The bed was pretty amazing and everyone else was napping so it was only fair that he got to sleep, too. Three hours of sleep the night before just didn't cut it.

He stripped and climbed into bed, wrestling with the blankets and covers before falling asleep. He woke to the sound of someone talking at him about something he had to do. Sleep was much more appealing.

Someone shook him, and the hand was warm and oddly appealing. "Come on Rodney. Time to get up. Your sister said you need to call the college back, too."

He shifted, burying a little deeper in the bed. "…later," he mumbled, his brain not online.

The nice warm hand slid down his back, rubbing him. "Nope, you need to get up, Rodney."

The hand was nice and Rodney shifted, pressing up into it. But in the space of a heartbeat, synapses connected. Hand. John. John was here. John was touching him. And Rodney was half naked. He woke up immediately. "Wha—?"

John just smiled at him. "Hey. Jeannie said it was time to get you up, so you didn't get too turned around."

Rodney groaned and turned over, pulling the blankets up to cover himself. "She's annoying."

John's chuckle was soft. "She's your sister. But she is right. And she mentioned you needed to call the college back before five."

Rodney groaned again, covering his eyes with his arm. He hated his sister right now.

John was quiet for a moment. "Thanks again for being here. I don't know if I could cope with all this without you."

"You'd be fine," Rodney said as he sat up, trying to rub the sleep out of his face. There was a time he could go for days on three hours of sleep. Not anymore. Now he was a victim of his advancing age. "I'm getting old. I used to be able to go for days without sleep."

"Tell me about it."

Rodney was quiet, letting his brain boot back up. He glanced at John who was stretched out next to him on the bed. "You okay?"

"Honestly, I don't know. It was just so sudden... I think I'm trying not to think about it too much, but when it finally hits me, it will be hard." John stared up at the ceiling.

"I can imagine," Rodney said, nudging John with his foot.

At least I had the chance to make peace with him. I don't know how I would have reacted if I had still been on Atlantis, and just got a note that he had died, without me ever getting the chance to fix our relationship. In a way, that makes it both easier and harder."

"Yeah," Rodney said with a nod. "Are you glad you were home?"

"Yeah. I can take some of the burden off Dave and Mom, and... yeah. I got to talk to my father again, and find some common ground. If he had died with our last words being the fight we had the night I left as a teenager..."

"You'd feel pretty shitty," Rodney said quietly, knowing how he'd feel.

"Yeah."

Rodney sighed, rubbing a hand along the back of his neck. "Family's important, isn't it?"

"More than I think I realized when I was younger." John moved closer, until they were perilously close to almost snuggling. "Glad you're here."

"Hindsight and all," Rodney said with a quiet snort as he shook his head. As much as his sister drove him nuts it was good to see her, spend time with her. He'd missed a lot of that when she was growing up.

"I guess that's why you have to just keep moving forward. Looking back, there are just regrets. At least for me, for leaving them and staying away all those years. I should have at least made contact sooner than I did."

"It wasn't like they reached out to you. Don't blame yourself. It takes two people to fight." And that was something he knew first-hand—although, for whatever reason, he didn't think it was possible for him and his sister to interact and not fight.

"I know. But still... I'm glad I had a chance to start fixing that relationship before he died."

Rodney looked down at John, realizing just how close he was. He poked him in the shoulder. "You're in my bed."

John turned his head and smiled. "And?"

"The last thing you need is to have people talk." Rodney said, poking him again as he shifted on the bed. "Let me get dressed and call the college before Jeannie sends in the brat."

"What would they talk about? You're my friend. And yeah, I should probably head down and see what's going on, and what still needs to be done."

"Think Katie cooked yet? I think I'm hungry." Rodney shoved the blankets onto John, burying him in them as he crawled out of the bed. He moved over to the chair where he'd dropped all of his clothes.

Watching John struggle his way out of the blankets on Rodney's bed was now burned into his brain. "Probably. Maddie mentioned there were people here when she woke me up, so I'd guess Katie's whipped something up to feed everyone."

"Oh yeah. They arrived before I came up here," he said, pulling on his pants. Where had he put his shirt? He glanced around the room, hoping to spot it, but when he didn't find it he started wandering, picking up a few things to see if he could find it.

"I guessed people would start arriving. Which is even more of a reason for me to get down there and start managing everything."

Where was his shirt? Unless it was on the bed. He eyed John and narrowed his eyes. "Are you lying on my shirt?"

John wiggled. "Maybe."

Okay. So didn't need to see that. "Maybe? How about you move your lazy ass and check?" he said with a scowl.

John made a face, but rolled over enough to pull something out from under him. Is this it?"

"Yes," Rodney said, grabbing it from him. It was horribly wrinkled and probably smelled. He gave it a few sniffs. Yeah. Yes on the smell. "Huh."

"What?" John stood up and played with his hair.

Rodney watched him for a few seconds before shaking himself out of it. His mind had already been going in the wrongwrongwrong direction. "I think I need a new one," he said, throwing his shirt at John's head. He wandered over to his suitcase to dig through it.

"Why, this one is fine."

"Take a whiff," Rodney said, gesturing toward John with his hand. "It's a bit ripe. Had it on for…a while. Wore it to work."

John took a careful sniff and then made a face. "Okay, yeah. Good call."

Rodney found a shirt he could use, one of his long-sleeved ones. He didn't even realize Jeannie had packed it for him. He dug in the suitcase again for socks. "Yeah. I was hoping I could get away with it, but with people here…not so much."

"I doubt anyone will be at their best for a few days."

Rodney shrugged as they left the room, heading downstairs. His stomach growled. God, he was hungry. That's why he didn't nap. He always woke up hungry. He hated that. "I could gnaw my arm off. Think Katie has something I can eat?"

"Let's go look in the parlor. If she has anything prepped already, it will be in there. It's the most logical room to use as a staging area."

Rodney nodded, letting John lead. He already knew there would be food since he'd talked to Katie earlier, but it had been something he could talk about—instead of the huge gaping silence that would have been between them. Rodney really didn't know how to help John so he always fell back on what was easy—food.

Jeannie, though, showed up less than five minutes later—did she have a radar or something?—and started hounding him about calling the college. Meyers could go and screw himself for all he cared.

"Meredith! Have you called yet? They close at five, and you need to talk to them before then."

Rodney scowled. "I just walked down and I'm eating something before my blood sugar drops."

She reached over and pulled his phone out of his pocket. "You're more than capable of multi-tasking." She then took John's plate and filled it up with food. "You aren't eating enough. I want to see every bite of that gone."

Rodney blinked at her, appalled that she'd actually reached into his pocket. It almost felt like she'd molested him or something. He watched her blow out of the room minutes later. "I forgot how scary she can be."

"Totally." John held out his plate. "Want some of this?"

Rodney shook his head, tilting his plate toward John. "I have enough."

John sighed and started picking at the food. "You'd better call. If she comes back again, she might kick both our asses if you haven't."

"And you better eat. I can't lie to her."

"I'll try."

He watched John push the food around his plate for a few minutes before he finally gave in and dialed Meyer's number. He wasn't in the mood to deal with him, but he didn't have much choice. "There is no try," he said as he put the phone to his ear, listening to it ring.

"Yes Master Yoda." John made a face at him.

Rodney snorted, rolling his eyes as someone finally picked up. Huh. Impressive. Meyers actually answered his own phone. "Meyers, it's Rodney McKay. I need to talk to you about taking over my classes for the next week or two."

"McKay, what the hell is this message I got that you're out of the fucking country?"

"All my lessons are on the computer in my office. It's not hard. Just read my notes." He tried not to grit his teeth, but he wasn't sure how successful he was.

"You need to get your ass here and teach your own damn classes."

Rodney watched as John silently left the room. Rodney wished he could just leave the conversation, but that wasn't possible. "I'm at a funeral."

"And I care because?"

"All I'm asking is someone to cover my classes so I can attend a fucking funeral."

"If you can find someone to do it, fine."

"You're the department head. This is your job."

"I'm not even going to try and decipher your lesson plans."

"What do you mean, decipher?" Rodney asked, getting to his feet when he caught a disapproving look from Katie as she poked her head into the room. He walked out the back door into the cool evening. "Everything's on my computer. It's not rocket science, but you're supposed to be able to handle rocket science."

"You're the one who was determined to create and teach highly advanced classes, not me."

"Highly advanced?! They're not that difficult! You of all people should be familiar with what I'm teaching. It's been in the science community for years now!"

"I'll cover one class. If you can find someone else to take the others, great. If not, your ass had better be back here to teach them."

"What! You need to cover all five!"

"I have my own classes to take care of, McKay. Your personal life isn't my problem."

"I need a week or two off at the most. It's not a lot to ask."

"Yes it is. School is in session. I don't give a rat's ass why you want to skip out on your responsibilities."

"I have other responsibilities which are just as important."

"Not to me they aren't."

"Well, they are to me. I need the time off."

"If you can find someone to cover the rest of your classes, fine."

Before Rodney could respond, Meyers hung up. "Fuck!" Rodney yelled, nearly throwing the phone, but he needed it in one piece. He dialed another of the science department professors who agreed to cover his classes through the end of the week. No one else he called would do anything to help him.

"Hey, buddy..."

He turned, surprised to see John outside. "They're all idiots! Every last one of them!"

"I take it they won't give you a leave, huh?"

Rodney sighed, shaking his head. He rubbed his hands over the tops of his arms. It was cold out here. "It's like I'm asking for a sacrifice of their first born child! No one will cover my classes."

John squeezed John moved closer and squeezed his shoulder. "It's all right. I understand."

He shifted away from John. He needed to walk to think and to keep warm. "No, you don't. They'll cover two classes for me, max. Meyers even had the gall to complain that my lesson plans were too complex and he's the department chair!" He took a breath before he continued. "Too complex! He wanted some advanced theory and now he has the nerve to complain about it!" he exclaimed, his hands waving.

"He can't just make up some new plans for a few weeks?"

"He's too busy screwing the TAs," he said snidely.

John blinked. "Is he really, or are you saying that because you're pissed at him?"

"What?" Rodney asked, staring at John. Hadn't he told him about that? "No. I caught him a month ago." He waved his hand absently. And a month before that. And a month before that…

"Does he know that you know?"

"I don't know," Rodney said, rolling his eyes. "I didn't ask."

"Why don't you call him back and ask then. I bet he'd give you the time off you want then."

"He's already told me no." Rodney felt like adding "you idiot" to the end of that statement, but he bit his tongue.

John shrugged. "It's up to you. Blackmail is kind of wrong, but it is an option."

Rodney narrowed his eyes. "So, is that how you do things now?"

"No." John seemed to deflate. "I don't know why I even suggested it. Being selfish, I guess."

There was one other person he could ask, but it was a long shot. A really long shot. "Look. I have one more person I can try before I throw in the towel. Okay?"

The other man nodded. "Okay. And…I do understand if you have to go back. The fact that you're here at all…it means a lot to me."

"I just…" Rodney sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "Let me make this call. Okay?"

John looked like he was going to say something else, then nodded and headed back into the house.

Rodney pulled out his cell phone again and headed away from the house, dialing as he walked. He shivered wishing he'd remembered his jacket.

Unfortunately, the phone call didn't go as desired. It seemed like Meyers had gotten to Henderson, too. The dumb ass wouldn't go against Meyers' decree.

With a frustrated sigh, he headed back into the house in search of coffee and something sweet to try to cheer himself up with. He discovered both in the dining room. Katie had made his favorite cake—the mocha chocolate most perfect cake ever. He'd cut himself a small slice and poured a mug full of coffee just as Jeannie walked in apparently looking for a fight.

"So?"

"So what?" he asked, narrowing his eyes at her.

"Did you call?"

"No, I spent the afternoon doing macramé and knitting."

She rolled her eyes. "What did he say?"

"I have to be back in the office on Monday and that this is not considered an approved absence. I feel like I'm in grade school again. Maybe I should get you to write me a note."

"That bastard!"

"Other, more colorful language probably applies, but…" Rodney shrugged. "Yeah."

"I'm sorry."

"I just means I'm going to be spending far too much time in planes over the next couple of weeks."

She shook her head. "Really. That man has no taste whatsoever. I can't believe his wife puts up with it."

"She's probably getting some on the side, too," Rodney said, dropping down into a chair, his cake and coffee laid out before him. "Hey. Grab me a fork?"

"Dinner is soon, you shouldn't be eating that."

"I'm not six. I can eat what I want, when I want it. Now give me the fork."

She made a face at him, but handed him one.

He scooped up the corner of the piece of cake and moaned as the taste burst in his mouth. Oh, it was good.

"Meredith! That is not appropriate for children."

"What? Why? I'm enjoying a good—make that fabulous—piece of cake. I'm allowed to show my appreciation."

It was Katie who walked by and took it out of his hands. "You're going to spoil your dinner."

"What the—" He looked around, his eyes finally landing on Jeannie. "You put her up to it!"

Jeannie laughed, but shook her head. "I didn't, but she's a woman after my own heart."

Rodney shoved back his chair, nearly knocking it over. He vaguely realized Caleb and Madison were in the room—had been in the room. "It's none of your business what I eat."

"Young man, it's my business what everyone in this house eats."

"I wasn't talking to you," he said, glaring at Katie before he turned his attention at his sister. "I was talking to this…woman who won't mind her own business."

"And you will not speak to your sister that way, or you won't get any more cake tonight."

"I'll get whatever I want tonight," Rodney said, storming out, his sister on his heels.

"Meredith McKay! This is not about you! This family is grieving, and while you might not like the way they handle it, you will not make their lives even harder."

"I'm trying to re-arrange my schedule to be here for them—for John—the least I can do is have a damn slice if cake and coffee after I spent an hour in the cold!"

"Katie is as upset as any of the rest of them, and you didn't see it when you went storming out, but your little... comment... almost sent her into tears and running back to the kitchen. Are you proud of yourself? Is that what you consider helping?"

"Just…for once in your life would you just lay off of me?" Rodney asked, finally stopping his headlong rush somewhere in the neighborhood of the den. "You're not making this any easier."

She sighed. "I know, but you need to see that you're not making it any easier for them, either.

"Fine," he said, throwing up his hands into the air. "Then I'll go home tomorrow. It'll make everyone happy."

She shook her head, then suddenly hugged him. "That's not what I'm saying at all, Mer. Look, just... try not to make this about you. No matter who says or does what, just keep reminding yourself that it's not about you, it's about helping family through a tough time."

"And all I wanted was a damn piece of cake and coffee."

"And Katie needed to feel like she still had some control over something. Right now, that's food."

Rodney waved her off. "She made it for me. That's my cake. You're the one who told her to do that to me. I know you."

"No, I didn't. And she might have made it for you, and you can have some later."

"I guess we'll see now, won't we?"

She gave an exasperated snort. "Fine. You're determined to make this all about you. The whole world revolves around you and what you want."

Rodney snorted. "As if. If that were the case, John and I would still be in Atlantis."

"And yet, right now you're being selfish and insisting the only thing that matters is that you want cake right now. You keep insisting you're not six. So act like it."

"Just…go and nag your husband. I don't need or what to hear this anymore."

Her eyes narrowed. "Fine."

Rodney dropped onto the couch as soon as she left. He was exhausted and cold and just…tired of fighting. She didn't understand what he went through on a daily basis. The only reason Meyers hadn't fired him on the spot for just up and leaving is because Meyers needed him on staff to get those grants. And the fact that Rodney knew about his whole sex thing with his students.

He snorted. That hadn't gone so well. He's tried to tell someone up the chain, but no one believed him. He didn't like not being listened to.

He stayed there until his stomach started to growl in earnest. Maybe by now Jeannie would be gone so he could get some food.

He wandered into the dining room spotting John and Madison as soon as he strode in. John waved him over, but the food was calling his name. He filled up his plate and headed over, dropping down in the empty seat next to John.

"So?"

Rodney paused mid bite, looking at John. He raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"Did you find someone to take your classes? Or do you have to head back with Caleb at the end of the week?"

Rodney made a face, turning back to his food. He didn't want to admit he'd struck out. "I have to call back in the morning."

"Okay." John gave him a small smile. "Maddie said there are some awesome desserts once we finish dinner."

"Yeah. There are," Rodney said making a face as he pushed his food around on his plate. This really wasn't the conversation he wanted to have, but it didn't look like John was going to let it go.

"Katie actually took them away from you?"

Rodney scowled and nodded. "Jeannie is a tyrant." And a lot of other things he wasn't about ready to go into with a kid sitting next to John. The other man must have seen something in his face.

"Behave, your niece is sitting here." John was grinning, which was nice to see on his face after all the sadness the last day.

Rodney felt his mouth tighten down a little at the comment. "I didn't curse. It's an improvement."

The other man chuckled softly, then waved at someone from across the room. Dave came to stand behind Madison, chatting with John for a few minutes.

Rodney just kept his head down, trying to swallow his food without it getting stuck in his throat. He wanted to just…make everything better for John, but he didn't know how. And with Andrea floating around and with all the other people here, he felt kind of…useless. Maybe that's why he was lashing out so much.

He sighed as John squeezed his shoulder and headed off with Madison. At least now he wouldn't have to pretend he wanted to eat. He gave his plate to a passing servant and started checking email, getting more and more annoyed as he read the stupid, idiotic messages from Meyers.

They shot texts back and forth, each one getting more venomous than the last. _I could care less about your friend, McKay. Get your ass in to work._

Rodney shot back a quick reply as someone dropped down next to him at the table.

Madison scooted a chair closer, and then got up and moved a third chair over before sitting across from him swinging her legs.

He narrowed his eyes at her, but otherwise ignored her.

She just sat there watching him text Meyers until someone else sat down. "What did that phone ever do to you?" John's voice was tired, but amused.

"It's the content, not the phone," he said absently before looking up. John had dessert. That was something he could eat. It might sit better than dinner was. "Oh. Dessert's served?"

"Yeah. We decided to try a little bit of everything." Madison had scooted closer to John, and he was sharing the plate with her.

"I'll be back," he said, pushing back his chair so he could get to his feet. "I know what I want." He dropped his phone on the table as he headed across the room to the food. Maybe this time Katie wouldn't forbid him from eating it—unless of course, Jeannie had her way.

When he got there, no women were to be seen, but there was dessert and, more importantly, coffee, on the table waiting for him.

Rodney got himself a big slice of cake and prepared his coffee perfectly. He took a quick sip to check it and nearly moaned at the taste. The coffee here was amazing. When he headed back to the table, however, John was on his phone talking to someone. Damn. Meyers better not have called.

John made a face and handed over the phone, holding it out like it was the smelly soup Teyla had once made them all eat off-world, and had sent John and Rodney both to the woods to yak it up. "Meyers is threatening you."

Great. Just great. He took the phone from John after he dumped his coffee and plate on the table. "What else is new? I'll be right back." He headed out of the dining room and back toward the den so he could get a little privacy. "What do you want now?"

"Tell your 'friends'"—Rodney could hear the air quotes—"to stop making shit up for you. I want you in my office Monday morning."

"Making what up? John's father died. He's not making anything up."

"He said you're family, and we both know that's a crock of shit."

Something warm burst inside his chest for a brief moment, but Rodney quick tamped it down. "I wouldn't fly at the drop of a hat for just anyone."

"Whatever. I don't really give a shit what sort of twisted fucking you do. But you will be in my office Monday morning, or you'll be looking for a fucking job." The line went dead.

Rodney sighed, ending the call on his end. This was just…great. Taking a deep breath, he made a quick phone call to the airlines and re-arranged his flights. He'd fly home on Sunday with Caleb and then come back on Friday to spend the weekend in Kentucky. The commute would be a bitch, but if that's what he had to do, then so be it.

John argued with him—Rodney knew he would—about spending the money in flights. But honestly, he needed to know John was all right. But then, when John started throwing in the "l" word, claiming that he wanted to be "surrounded by the people I love," and then started snuggling up to Andrea when they got to the media room later, Rodney took the hint and left.

He honestly didn't know what to make of that comment and spent a good portion of the day obsessing over it—and avoiding John. With so many people around and so much to do, it was easy. But, by the end of the day he just had to see him and make sure John was okay. He was going to ignore the "l" word comment and pretend like it had never happened. It was better that way.

He managed to find John in the media room—big surprise there seeing that the man had slept in there the night before.

"Hey. You need anything? I'm going to head up to bed."

"I'm pretty sure sleeping in the same room and watching television so I don't have a chance to think is out of the picture, huh?" John gave him a weak smile.

Rodney raised an eyebrow. "Sleeping in the same room as who?"

"Me. I don't want to give my brain a chance to start spinning."

Rodney blinked twice. John wasn't asking what it sounded like he was asking, was he? So much for keeping that "l" word comment locked away. "What?"

John shrugged. "You don't have to. I just know if I'm left alone too long, I'll start over-thinking everything, and I'm not ready for that yet."

"Let me get this straight," Rodney said, shifting on his feet and he tried to remind himself that this was a bad, bad, bad idea even though his body was starting to move into high gear. "You want me to sleep with you."

"Stop trying to make it sound dirty." John made a face at him.

"I'm bi-sexual and it sounded like my best friend—who is currently dating a hot woman who is a martial arts fiend—just propositioned me!" he said, probably a little louder than absolutely necessary, but the situation called for it. "I'm sorry if it's a little…weird."

The other man stood up, and Rodney could see the exhaustion in every line of his body. Not even combat had ever made him seem this... defeated. "I just don't want to sleep alone. I'm not asking for sex. I just want someone to stay in the room."

"O…kay," Rodney said. It was time to play 'placate the crazy natives'. He had a lot of practice with this. "So, what exactly do you want me to do?"

"You don't have to do anything." John sighed. "I just wanted someone else in the room alive with me."

"I'm across the hall."

"I know. Just forget it. It's not a big deal. I'll survive."

"I'm just…trying to wrap my mind around what you're asking me to do." And trying to remain calm and convince my dick this is not what it sounded like. He wasn't going to mention that part.

"Just sleep. But seriously, it's obviously bothering you, so don't worry about it." They started walking toward the bedrooms.

Rodney backtracked a bit. He didn't want to seem…insensitive. He'd gotten that lecture enough times from Jeannie already. "It's just that none of my straight friends has ever asked me to sleep with them before."

"Yeah, well... I'm not your average friend I guess."

"No, you're not," Rodney said, looking at John for a long minute, trying to decide if this was worth the risk. He also didn't want to lose this friendship when his body thought this might end up being something else entirely.

"Sorry?"

"I'm almost used to you being weird. This was just a new…component," Rodney said with a shrug, trying to get himself to relax.

"Oh." John hesitated. They were outside his bedroom door. "So does that mean you're going to, or not? Now you've got me confused."

"Go get ready for bed, John." They'd shared tents before. He could do this. He just needed a few minutes to get himself together.

John's face fell. It was obvious he thought Rodney was saying no. "All right. Night."

Rodney left it at that, too caught up in his own quiet panic to care. He was going to change into something that wouldn't let his body think this was something other than platonic. The last thing Rodney needed was for John to find out he was crushing on him. That was just…never okay.

He spent several minutes staring into the mirror, psyching himself up for sleeping next to his best friend, whom he was in love with despite all his best efforts. His straight best friend, who had asked him to sleep with him. And had used the "l" word.

Rodney finally pulled off his clothes and tugged on sweats and an old t-shirt before he headed across the hall, barging in with a brief knock. "You better not do anything weird," he said as he closed the door behind him.

John's smile, the real one he rarely showed anyone, convinced him that no matter how hard this would be, it was worth it. "I promise not to assault you in the middle of the night. And thanks."

"There is no inappropriate touching or cuddling or….anything that you do with Andrea. You understand?" he asked, narrowing his eyes. This was important. Any…touching and he was likely to go off like a rocket—and that's the last thing he needed.

John rolled his eyes. "Yes, Rodney. I won't threaten your virtue, I promise. Cross my heart and everything."

Rodney rolled his eyes and snorted and he climbed into the bed. "And this just proves you are ten."

"Yeah yeah." John had put the television on, but he handed the remote over. "I honestly don't care what's on. It's just background noise, so if you want to find something you like, go ahead."

"I'm going to be asleep in about ten minutes flat," Rodney said, getting comfortable. "Pick something and keep your hands to yourself."

Snorting, John set the remote aside and settled in himself. "Night, Rodney. And thanks again."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." He huffed a few times, shifting on the mattress. "Freak."

John's light chuckle was the last thing he heard as he drifted off to sleep.

****

The next few days were a whirlwind. With all the people in the house for the wake and funeral, to just keeping track of what was going on, it was a relief in a way to be heading back to Canada. In some ways, though, it was a mixed blessing. He hated all the people that were always around, but he also hated to be leaving John here.

At least Jeannie and Madison would be keeping an eye on John.

Work, though, was going to be a nightmare—at least if the emails he'd been getting from Meyers were any indication. The bastard had arranged to have his pay docked for the time he was in Kentucky and if Rodney didn't show up on Monday morning he'd lose another week.

Meyers loved exerting his power and Rodney had had enough.

Once they were settled on the plane, in the cramped quarters of coach, he broached the subject with Caleb. "So. Hypothetically…if you wanted to bring someone up on charges, what would you need to do?"

"What do you mean?" Caleb looked up from the magazine he had been browsing through.

Rodney sighed, plucking at the corner of the SkyMall catalog he'd grabbed, just to have something in his hands. "Meyers."

"Ah." Caleb tapped his magazine in his lap for a minute. "I know you've already tried to go to the school administration, right?"

"Kinda. I just went to…McDonald…McHenry? Mc…something." Rodney waved his hand. "The dean of the science department."

Caleb nodded. "What did he say?"

"Nothing remotely helpful."

Caleb nodded again. "Maybe try Harvey Colts. He's the vice president of the college."

"Will he actually listen?"

"Honestly, I don't know. Colts can be... if it's something he cares about, he'll focus every resource he can get his hands on to get it taken care of. If he doesn't personally care, though, odds are good he won't do anything at all."

Rodney snorted. "Doesn't surprise me. So, what does he care about?"

"It varies, which is why I said to try him first. You just never know what causes he'll decide to take on. One year there wasn't a single equipment purchase he would turn down, and the next he wouldn't approve anything, no matter how necessary, because he had lost interest."

"Wonderful. So, what's his mood this year? Does he approve of teachers who take advantage of their students?"

"That's what might give you an advantage. Despite his eccentricities, from what I've seen he really does love the school. If you put this to him as a threat to the college's reputation, it might be enough to get him on your side."

"Maybe," Rodney said with a sigh as the plane bumped a little as it hit turbulence. He clutched the arm of the seat and closed his eyes, wishing John was piloting.

"If he won't listen, try the college President himself."

"I just…want to get Meyers to stop having sex with the students. Some of them are underage, too."

Caleb nodded. "That's a serious problem. Will any of the girls come forward to back you? That will make it pretty impossible for Colts to ignore you."

"I don't know," Rodney said, trying not to yelp as the plane dropped a few hundred feet and the seatbelt sign dinged on. Better late than never.

Caleb glanced over. "After all you've done, you still don't like flying?"

"I don't like inept pilots."

"What makes you think this one is inept?"

"He's managing to hit every stupid little bump in the road! John never did that."

Caleb chuckled.

"It's true. John knew how to…maneuver around air turbulence. I never got motion sick when he was piloting."

"He's had years of practice under more interesting situations than most pilots, I'd guess."

"I guess," Rodney said sourly as he released the arm of the chair. "I still need to figure out a plan of attack."

"If there's anything I can do to help, let me know. Since I'm not in your department, I'm not sure how much they'll take my word for it, but if I can help, I will."

"Any direction would be helpful. You know the college better than I do."

"Let me know how Colts reacts."

"That's very…unhelpful."

"I'm not sure what else that would be useful."

"I don't know. Has this ever happened before?"

"Not to my knowledge, no. That's the problem. You're charting new territory here."

"Great," Rodney said, rolling his eyes. "Just my luck."

Caleb smiled. "That's not a bad thing."

"Why can't things be easy? Just once in my life, I'd like things to go easily without all of this…drama."

"Honestly? Because you're just... you."

Rodney snorted. "Thanks. I think I'm insulted."

"Don't be. You're the kind of person who gets things done. You move mountains and spark intellectual revolutions. That's not something to be insulted about."

"Yeah yeah yeah," Rodney said, shifting in his seat. He had a lot of thinking to do.

Caleb gave him another smile before settling back in his seat.

He was quiet the rest of the ride home, all the was through customs and the car trip back to the house. The next morning, he dragged himself into work and directly to Meyers' office—just as the man had requested.

He was going to do things by the book.

Meyers sneered as soon as he turned the corner. "Well, well, look what we have here. I'm surprised to see you, McKay."

"I'm here like you requested, Meyers. What did you want?"

"I didn't think you'd actually bother to show up. Give me a minute while I get over my shock."

"If there was nothing else, I need to go and check on how you screwed up my classes last week." Rodney turned to go.

"I'm watching you, McKay."

"And I'm watching you, Meyers," he said, offering the man a small, tense smile. "I'm watching everything you do and everything you poke yourself into. Or should I say…who?"

Meyer's eyes went flat. "Watch it, McKay. You don't want to really piss me off."

"I'd recommend checking their IDs. Some of them are a little…young for you aren't they?"

"There are some things you shouldn't go poking your nose into, McKay. You'll regret it if you do."

"I guess we'll see, won't we?"

Meyers just gave him an evil smirk. "Yes, we will."

Rodney rolled his eyes and headed to his office, discovering Ashley already there—and in his chair. "What are you doing here?"

"Professor McKay!" She was up and giving him a hug like a rocket.

It took him a moment before he could respond and then he was pushing her away. "Get off! I need to breathe, you know."

"We were all afraid something had happened to you!"

"Nothing happened to me. A friend's father died and I had to leave in a hurry. I'm here now. I have to figure out what Meyers screwed up while I was gone," he blustered as he moved to his desk.

"There have been all kinds of rumors going around. Most of them have you dead."

"Rumors?" Rodney raised an eyebrow as he dropped into his chair.

She nodded, sitting across from him in the guest chair. "Meyers wouldn't tell anyone why you were gone, or when you were coming back. So everyone thought he had done something to you."

"Like he could actually do something to me," he said with a huff as he pulled up his email. "He talks more than he acts and he likes young girls because they don't fight back."

She shrugged. "Those of us who know how he is first hand, know how good he can be at making your life miserable."

"Oh yes, he's good at that, but killing someone?" Rodney shook his head. "No, he's not capable of that. It would dirty his hands."

"I don't know. We didn't know what had happened."

"Well, now you know. You can go and spread the word far and wide that I've returned," he said waving his hand at her. "But first, you can tell me what happened last week."

She made a face. "Professor Meyers completely threw out all the lessons I had done with you, and said we were supposed to be working on a section from a book he uses in his classes."

"Great, just great. It would have been better to not have any classes at all."

She nodded. "The lessons he made us sit through were the exact same ones he gave to his entry-level classes last week."

"Wonderful." He rolled his eyes. "Well, prep the class for last week's lesson. We'll need to make up some time, apparently."

"Okay. I hid a copy of everything Professor Meyers put through the shredder, so I'll make more and pass them around."

"He shredded it!"

She nodded. "All the lessons he could find, and he deleted them off your hard drive and mine. But he didn't know I had a spare copy at home in my apartment, so I'll type everything back up tonight and have them ready for you tomorrow."

"That meddling, arrogant bastard!" Rodney yelled finding himself on his feet and headed to the door.

"Professor!" Ashley stepped in his way. "He's trying to get you to do something rash so he can make your life hell. Please, calm down before you go in, or you'll only give him what he wants."

Rodney closed his eyes and took a few breaths. "I have everything backed upon the external drive I carry with me. It's in my briefcase. I want you make copies of what we need for today's classes."

She nodded. "I'll do that now."

"I will try to hold myself back from ruining his credit score and changing his bank account passwords."

She smiled. "Good. I'll have everything ready for you in an hour for today's classes."

Rodney nodded as she moved around the office, grabbing the external drive. He took a few long, deep breaths and unclenched his fists.

Ashley took it and headed out to take care of the day's lessons, closing the door behind her.

It took him a few minutes to calm down before he headed back to his desk, slowly poking through his email. His mind, though, kept wandering. He needed to do something. Maybe Colts would help. Maybe.

He looked up the extension in the college guide and dialed.

"Professor Colts' Office, this is Sheila, how may I help you?"

"Oh, hi. This is Doctor…ah Professor McKay in the science department. I teach physics and whatnot."

"Yes, Professor. What can I do for you today?"

"I have a problem and I'm not sure how to go about getting it fixed. Who do I need to talk to if I know another professor is taking advantage of his students?"

"Hmmm, you know, I'm not sure. If you'll hold for a moment, Professor Colts is in his office. I'll make sure he's not in the middle of anything, then pass you through."

"Thanks," he said, remembering the need to be polite. He'd learned a few things from Teyla—even though he would never admit it out loud.

He listened to the college hold music for about five minutes before someone picked up. "This is Colts."

"Professor Colts, this is Doctor…ah Professor McKay. I'm hoping you can help me."

"Shelia said you wanted to report misconduct?"

"Yes. Yes, I do."

"I'll listen. What have you got?"

"One of the professors in the science department is…abusing his position with the students," McKay said, glancing up to make sure his door was closed. "I tried to talk to the dean last semester, but he was unwilling to listen."

"Abusing how?"

"Forcing them to have sex with him."

"What?!" Colts was suddenly yelling. "Who the hell would do that? No one abuses my students that way!"

"Andrew Meyers, sir," Rodney said quietly. "It starts innocently enough until he's only allowing the students to attend the classes he approves of and have sex with him regularly or else he'll withhold a letter of recommendation."

"Meyers." Colts practically spit the name. "I never liked him. Do you have any proof? Girls who would be willing to back you up?"

"One of them is currently working as my TA. It was the only way I could get her away from him. She's…even months later and out of his sphere of influence, she's still hesitant to talk about it. I can probably convince her to speak to you."

"Do that. And get me any other evidence you can find." Colts made a rude noise. "Meyers has had favored status for too long, and I never knew why. The bastard has managed to convince people he's necessary for this school's science program to survive, but I never believed it."

"I will," Rodney said, nodding, a knot of uncertainty releasing in his chest. "I've managed to grab two new grants for the department and Meyers continues to fight me on them—even though it's not coming out of his budget. I'd look at the financial documents too if I were you."

"Fucking bastard. He's probably afraid if anyone figures out he's not the top shit, he'll lose his job. And he's right. Start by getting me whatever evidence you've got, not only of the abuse, but of his incompetence. And get as many girls over here to give me statements as you can. It will be confidential. Once I have enough to back up the claim without a doubt, I'll work with my contacts in the police department. I will not allow my students to be terrorized any longer."

"Thank you for taking me seriously," Rodney said. "I'm new and I wasn't sure who else I could turn to."

"Meyers has had a grip on too many people for too long. I'm glad you came to me, and we'll nail this fucker."

"Yes, we will," Rodney said coldly.

"Have as much as you can put together on my desk tomorrow, along with the names of all the girls you know or suspect were abused, past and present. And have the girls who are willing come to my office ASAP. I'll alert my secretary that they're to be brought in and anything else I have going on will be paused. This is more important."

"I'll coordinate everything with… Shelia," Rodney said, hoping it was the right name.

"Good. I'll be looking for it." Colts hung up the phone.

Rodney slowly hung up his extension, staring at the phone for a few minutes. He'd done it. The proverbial ball was moving and he'd started it on its down-hill spiral.

Jeannie wasn't going to be happy about it, so he had no intention of telling her about it. Caleb had been helpful, but it would be better to keep him out of it, too. If anything happened to either of them because of his meddling, Rodney wasn't sure he could forgive himself.

Rodney managed to get through his morning classes without incident, getting them back on track after last week's hiatus. Ashley was in his office when he returned from the cafeteria with a roast beef sandwich and a soda.

"I need to talk to you," he said as he closed the door to the office.

"Sure." She sat down in his guest chair.

"There's no…delicate way to say this—not that I'd ever consider myself delicate, but that's besides the point. I need you to go and talk to Professor Colts tomorrow morning."

Her forehead wrinkled. "Okay. Why?"

"Meyers."

Her coloring paled. "Professor—"

"I know," he said, cutting her off. "I know it's hard. I know you don't want to, but Colts is investigating. He's going to put the weight of the college behind the inquiry. He'll protect you once you talk to him. You won't have to worry about Meyers anymore."

She looked down at the floor. "Can I think about it?"

"I'd rather you just agreed with me."

She wouldn't look up. "I know, it's just... I can still hear him, hear the threats. I still... I have nightmares..."

Rodney sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "I know. I know what I'm asking you to do is hard, but there's no other way around it. If we want to stop Meyers from doing this to other girls, we need to do this now. And I'm going to need your help to get other girls to talk to Colts, too."

"I..." She fell silent for a long minute. "I'll talk to him. And I'll talk to the others." She finally looked up. "If we can stop him from hurting anyone else the way he has us..."

Rodney nodded. "It stops here. It stops now. He can't hurt you anymore. I promise."

She took a deep breath. "Okay. I don't know if the others will feel safe enough to talk to Professor Colts, but I'll do it."

"We'll have to convince them. I'll help as much as I can, but you're the ones who need to act. He's an arrogant prick and an asshole to work for, but he's done so much more to you."

"I know. And if we can make sure no one else has to go through this... I'll talk to them."

"Thank you. Do you want to call Sheila in Colts' office, or should I?"

"I'll do it." She took a deep breath.

Rodney turned his office phone around to face her and then pointedly ignored her, logging into his email, giving her a little privacy—as much as he was comfortable with doing given the situation.

She was quiet for a while, then he heard her pick up the phone. There was a catch in her voice, but from what he could tell, Shelia was sympathetic and Ashley was to come over right away. They would make room in Colts' schedule for her.

As she got up to leave, Rodney spoke again, before she reached the door. "Don't forget I need that paperwork for the classes the rest of the week."

Glancing back, she gave him a weak smile. "Already done."

"Oh? When did you have time to do that? I didn't think you had minions yet."

"I'm just that good, Professor."

Rodney chuckled quietly. "As long as you don't let it go to your head, I think we're fine with that."

Her smile was a bit stronger as she slipped out the door.

The rest of the day was thankfully uneventful and Rodney managed to drag himself back to the house. When he walked in, Caleb was in the kitchen making some kind of pasta with vegetables for dinner and there was garlic bread in the oven. The house smelled absolutely wonderful.

"Hi. Figured with the girls still gone, I'd do something special for dinner."

"You can cook." Rodney blinked at his brother-in-law. He'd never seen him in front of the stove.

Caleb chuckled. "Jeannie likes to do it, and it gives her something to do and plan, so I don't much anymore. But we used to share it equally."

"Huh." Rodney moved to the kitchen table, dumping his laptop bag on a chair before he moved to the fridge. "You hear from her today?"

"Yes. She said they read the will, but that John wanted to tell you about it himself, so I'm not allowed to tell you how it went."

"What do you mean you're not allowed to tell me? If you know, spill."

"If I do, my wife will kill me."

"I don't plan on telling her if you don't."

Caleb smiled. "I know you want to call John anyway, so I'll let you. Dinner will be ready in about a half hour."

"Actually, no, I wasn't planning on it." Rodney slid into a chair. "So, what's the story?"

Caleb shrugged. "John is very rich."

Rodney snorted. "That's nothing new. He was always very rich."

"Now he owns a lot more."

"What's a lot more? Are we talking a few hundred thousand more?"

"According to Jeannie, he now owns half of Sheppard Industries outright, the mansion we all stayed in, and the stables, plus a third of his father's fortune."

"That's…" Rodney paused, considering it. "Really, really rich."

"Yeah." Caleb shrugged. "Jeannie said John is already trying to figure out ways to deny it."

Rodney snorted and rolled his eyes. He took a long pull of his beer. "That's no surprise. It's almost like he has no idea what to do with it all, like he has no concept that he can have pay a slew of minions to work for him."

"Honestly I don't think he does. John has never struck me as the type who's comfortable letting anyone else help him."

"You can say that again. It already got me in trouble once."

"Oh?"

Rodney felt his cheeks flush as Caleb gave him an inquisitive eye. "Yeah. When he first was discharged he was a little…at odds with things. I helped him get all set up. I contacted David and worked through everything for him. The schooling, too." Rodney shrugged. "If I hadn't, Sheppard would be living in a hovel somewhere."

Caleb smiled. "I think you're the only one he lets do that. You two have a very different sort of friendship. It's good for both of you."

"He didn't exactly…let me do anything."

"Oh, you two knock heads about it, but in the end, he accepts your help. With anyone else, I have a feeling he would do the opposite just to prove he could."

"Maybe," Rodney said with a shrug. "But that means I probably need to get him some help or else he's going to get lost in the minutia of the company and never finish his degree."

Caleb laughed. "From what I know of John, probably. He'll try so hard to do it all himself, he'll sacrifice everything he wants for everyone else's benefit."

Rodney tapped his fingertip against the beer bottle. "I know a few people that might work for him. It depends on what they're doing, though."

Caleb raised an eyebrow. "You're going to hire him an assistant?"

"Why not? It's not like he's going to think of it. Sometimes I swear he cheated on the MENSA test."

A plate of food was placed in front of him. "It's not a bad idea. He needs someone to help him out, and he won't ever think of it himself, much less do it."

"The only thing he'll do himself is drive around really fast in that excuse for a penis extension of a car."

Caleb laughed.

"It's true," Rodney said, digging into the pasta. "You saw the car."

"I never thought of it that way."

"I wonder what Scarlett's doing," Rodney said, taking another bite of pasta and washing it down with the last bit of his first beer. He got up and grabbed another one. "Want?"

"Sure. And who's Scarlett?"

"A hacker I knew before I started working at Area 51."

"A hacker."

Rodney nodded, grabbing a second beer for Caleb. "Yeah. That's how a lot of us got started with computers. Hell, I was a hacker for a long time—in between jobs and whatnot. She got caught, though, so was having some issues the last time we talked."

"If she got caught, she can't be a very good hacker."

"She was very good, but got stupid for a short time." Rodney rolled his eyes. "I trust her."

"But would she be good at being an assistant? Hacking and personal assistant are two very different jobs."

"I think she'd be exactly what John needs. Someone to make sure he's got everything running right. She's great with numbers and organizing data. You should have seen all the folders and Excel sheets she used."

Caleb chuckled. "You know better than I would."

"Hmm. I might call her tomorrow."

"How are things with Meyers going?"

Rodney pushed his food around for a few moments, trying to decide how much to tell him. "You know, I don't think you really want to know."

One of Caleb's eyebrows went up.

"The last thing I need is for you to lose your job because of what I'm doing. I'd never hear the end of it from Jeannie. So, no. I'm going to keep that particular subject to myself."

Caleb gave him a long look before nodding. "All right. Just let me know if I can help."

"I'm not going to need your help."

The other man shrugged.

"It's just…better this way."

"You know best."

"Of course, I do," Rodney muttered, turning back to his dinner even though his appetite had long since vanished. "I'm a genius, you know. Greatest mind in the galaxy."

"I believe you've mentioned that," Caleb chuckled.

"Yes, well, it never hurts to remind people."

They lapsed into silence, both of them finishing their dinners.

Rodney ended up spending the rest of the evening in the basement, fussing with some of the Ancient database, working on some of his ZPM research—after he tracked down Scarlett Rylee Harrison. It looked like she was already living in Louisville, which would be perfect, and had been freelancing for Papa John's and Banacorp who both had headquarters in the city. He'd call her first thing in the morning.

He just hoped she would be interested in doing something different.

Although, he was sure John could pay her pretty well—which she'd like.

He found her cell phone number and made a note to himself to call her as soon as he got up, before work.

He was very restless that night, his mind still going over and over everything, second-guessing the decisions he'd made. He finally gave up and called Scarlett just after 7:30 after he'd gotten a mug of coffee.

"Yeah?"

"Scarlett?"

"Who is this?"

"Rodney McKay."

There was a pause. "McKay? I thought you were dead."

"So did I on a few occasions, but the news of my death were highly exaggerated. Anyway. I might have a job for you if you're interested."

"I've given up the illegal stuff." There was a note of suspicion.

"I figured after the last go around. And the job's legal and will pay well."

"What kind of pay well? And what kind of job? I really am trying to stay out of trouble now."

"It would be for Sheppard Industries. I'm sure you've heard of them." He smirked to himself as he waited for her explosion.

She didn't disappoint. "Sheppard Industries? Those guys are more loaded than the President. What the hell would they need with someone like me?"

"Why don't you meet me on Friday and we can talk. I'm flying in that afternoon."

"All right. What the hell. If nothing else, it will be interesting to hear what you've been up to. Did you get threatened by the government that it was go legit or go to jail too?"

Rodney chuckled. "No. I quit. A difference of opinion with the military."

"Wow, and they let you go? Badass."

"They didn't have a choice. I wasn't staying and I'm still a civilian so they couldn't make me."

"Still, I'm impressed. What time and where on Friday?"

"I get in around noon. So, one? And since you live there, you tell me."

"Okay. And Tony's Pizza on Main Street then. They make the best sausage pizza."

Rodney chuckled. "Fine. I'll meet you there and bring the paperwork. This is an offer you can't refuse."

"I'll be looking forward to hearing it. Sheppard Industries is infamous in this town. How'd you get hooked up with them?"

"I know the owners."

"Damn. Nice."

"It's a long story and I need to get myself to work. So I'll see you on Friday and I fully expect you to sign on."

She laughed. "I'll see you there McKay. We'll see."

Rodney nodded to himself. That was done. At least she hadn't said no immediately. Although, Sheppard Industries was a pretty good deal. If he wasn't so worried about screwing up John's life he would have jumped at the chance to work for him.

But it was better this way.

And if he kept telling himself that, he might actually believe it one day.

****

Tuesday Rodney spent the bulk of the day, when he wasn't actually teaching, digging into the department records. He was still a good hacker—a little out of practice—but he knew his way in and out of computer systems.

After making sure Ashley was going to stay out of his office for the day—she was mostly busy with Colts today—he started working. He looked for discrepancies. Looked for things that didn't quite add up.

There was more than he thought, but he had to give Meyers credit—the man wasn't stupid. Rodney could see where things didn't add up but should, but he had yet to figure out where the surplus was going, and how.

He would, though. It would just take some time.

After lunch, Rodney changed tactics for a while, looking into the missed grant opportunities the college had been offered but Meyers had turned down. There were more than he anticipated.

In fact, he stumbled across a password-protected, super-encrypted area of the computer system that, once hacked, had more than 100 grants that had been ignored.

Pay dirt.

He copied everything to his external drive.

An hour later, Meyers came storming into his office. "I know it was you. What the hell were you doing trying to get in to my private area of the computer system?"

Rodney looked up from the papers he was grading and blinked at Meyers twice before answering calmly. "Sorry? I've been working on papers all day. Have to get these grades in before the end of the week. Isn't that what your note to the staff said?"

Meyers sneered at him. "I know it was you, McKay. You're the only one who would dare. Stay the hell out of my personal files."

"I have no idea what you're blathering about this time."

"Just stay out, McKay. Or else you'll regret it." He turned on his heel and stormed back out.

Rodney took a breath as soon as the door slammed shut. He was glad he'd signed off fifteen minutes before Meyers showed up. It also told him that he needed to be a little more careful. Meyers' shouldn't have been able to see his hacking.

The man must have some kind of program to detect people trying to get in. He hadn't said he knew Rodney had been in, just that he had tried, so Meyers still believed his system was proof against Rodney's hacking. So if he could find the tracer and take it out, he could get in and out without anyone knowing.

That would be his job for tonight and the system at the house. The computer there was more powerful anyway.

For the rest of the day, he made sure to focus on only school work, since Meyers was finding reasons to "stop by" for no reason and glare.

The sixth time, Rodney smiled up at him. "I'm surprised at how much you apparently have missed me when I was away last week. Or are you trying to come up with brilliant ideas for the dean and you need some inspiration?"

"Watch yourself, McKay. You're not irreplaceable."

"Or do you need pointers for your classes? Is that why you're here? I'm sure I can teach you a few things, but it might take some time. You know how it is with old dogs."

"Just watch yourself. Those with high aspirations only fall that much harder." Meyers sneered again and banged his way out.

Eight visits in one day was certainly a record.

Meyers needed someone to take him out. He was an ass of epic proportions.

Thankfully, the rest of the day was relatively normal. John finally admitted to him that he was now filthy rich—and had no idea what to do with it. That was something Rodney could have easily told him, but that was already all buttoned up.

Wednesday was nearly a carbon copy of Tuesday—except that Meyers kept getting more and more nasty—and Rodney couldn't find that damn tracker program.

He finally realized it was because Meyers had somehow managed to install it on his private machine, probably to ensure no one could hack it. If he wanted to get around it, he'd have to get to that computer directly and introduce something to keep it from seeing him.

That was going to take some creative thinking, especially since he always had one of those damn girls in his office at all times.

Maybe he could get one of them to help him. He'd have to make sure it was one of the ones who wasn't completely terrified into submission though.

That was going to take some doing.

He started trying to think of a way to find out from Ashley who the best target would be, without letting her know why.

Although, sometimes, she was too damn smart for her own good, just like this time was proving.

She wouldn't just give him a name. She wanted to know why.

"Because I said so," he said with a huff. It never worked with Madison. Maybe it would work with her.

She just narrowed her eyes.

"Look. I'm doing this for your own good. I'm trying not to get you involved any more than you already obviously are."

"I'm not going to get any of the others in any deeper. They're already afraid."

Rodney sighed. "I need to get more information and Meyers has a tracer program set up on his computer. I need to turn it off."

Her eyes widened, then she got thoughtful. "Marieanne is one of the newest girls, and she's there when he takes his lunch break. I'll see if she'll turn a blind eye to you coming in."

"Five minutes, tops, is all I need."

"I'll talk to her and let you know."

Rodney bobbed his head with a nod. "Good, good. And I need to do it today. I'm heading back to Kentucky tomorrow."

"I'll be back." She got up and headed out.

Rodney took a deep breath and tried to focus on the tests he had to grade. He'd given a pop quiz the day before and he wanted to have the grades done so he didn't have to worry about it over the weekend.

But between the Meyers thing and the whole John having sex with Andrea thing—and the confirmation that they were indeed a couple and Rodney had no chance in hell with John—his concentration was shot. So why was he going there again? Oh right. He was masochistic. That had to be the reason.

Ashley came back in thirty minutes later. "Okay, if you come with me now, we can get you ten minutes."

"Now?" He glanced up, eyes wide, heart beating a little fast.

She nodded. "He's gone to lunch, and Marianne is there. If we go now, we can guarantee he won't be back."

"Oh. Okay. Right. Yes. Now," he said shoving back his chair.

She led him into Meyers office, where the girl at the secretary desk gave him a wan smile.

"Are you sure about this?" he hissed as Ashley as she led him inside Meyers' office.

"Yes. He won't be back for a half hour. If you're gone in ten minutes, he'll never know and there won't be any chance of him coming in unexpectedly."

"Okay," he said, moving behind Meyers' desk. His hands were sweaty, so he wiped them against his pants leg before entering the password to Meyers' computer. That was the first thing he hacked when he'd gotten to the college last year.

Ashley had drifted to the door to keep watch.

Rodney moved quickly, screen after screen popping up as he worked his way through the computer. It took him three minutes to find the program and a minute and a half to stop it from logging certain IP addresses. At the five minutes mark he was closing everything down and putting the computer back to sleep.

He was walking out with Ashley behind him at seven minutes, and back in his office as the ten minute mark hit.

He wanted to throw up he was so nervous. He hadn't done anything like this in months. Not since Atlantis and it wasn't even life his live was at stake or anything. But god. What a rush.

Ashley grinned at him, then headed out to do some of the other work he had her focusing on.

God. He was getting too old for this.

He managed to get his tests graded and ended up berating the class that afternoon because everyone failed the pop-quiz. When three students left crying, he felt a little better. He hadn't lost his touch.

Now it was time to try hacking Meyers' system again to see if the hacks worked.

He closed and locked his office door before waking up his own computer, diving into the college network. He would have this one time only when he knew he was free to look at everything he needed. Once Meyers got back to his computer, there was no telling how long his hacking would go un-noticed.

He slipped in, and immediately started downloading everything he could find to an external drive. He figured he'd grab it all, and sort through it later when he had more time.

He was on a time-clock now. The last thing he needed was to Meyers to find him downloading all of this information. He needed to get in and get out.

It took him twenty minutes to grab everything Meyers' had hidden behind his passwords, and then Rodney got out and shut down.

He let out a long breath and then quickly backtracked along the lines he'd used to get in, cleaning everything up and re-directing everything to ping on a computer in the administration building.

He stashed the external drive in his briefcase—that he would go through at home, on his own systems, where there was no chance of discovery.

Rodney took another breath and let himself panic quietly for about five minutes before he pulled himself together and got up, unlocking his door.

No one was storming down the halls or screaming obscenities at him. A good first step.

Instead, he had three students lounging in the hallway outside, working on their homework for the week. Ashley just smiled up at him. "What are you doing?" he asked, narrowing his eyes at them.

"I'm helping some of the others with questions they had. I didn't think you'd want to be disturbed."

"But you're sitting on the floor outside my office."

"The AC in mine is out. It was cooler here."

"Right." He scowled at her.

She shrugged.

"Get inside already," he said, opening up the door wider as he stormed back to his desk.

She and the students got up and followed him in.

For the rest of the afternoon, Ashley was his shadow, following him to his classes and around the science building. On some levels, he was surprised she didn't follow him into the bathroom, too.

By the time five o'clock rolled around, he scowled at her again as she started to follow him outside. "Nothing's going to happen, you know. I don't need a babysitter."

She shrugged. "I know he won't do anything unless he catches you alone."

"So does that mean I'm going to have a babysitter for the next few months?"

She gave him a cheeky grin.

"You're worse than a certain Scottish mother hen I used to know," he grumbled as they walked to the parking lot.

"You just inspire loyalty, Professor."

Rodney snorted. "I know how to take care of myself. I have a high sense of self-preservation. You have to in the academic field."

"Professor Meyers isn't your usual kind of thing you have to look out for though."

"You'd be surprised. It reminds me of someone named Kolya, but that's a very long story."

She shrugged. "Better safe than sorry."

"Sometimes," he said with a quiet sigh. "Everything went okay with Colts?"

She nodded. "He really does want to help us. I told some of the others how much he wants to end this, and that I trust him, so they might go talk to him, too."

Rodney nodded. "This is all for you, you know, so you don't have to worry anymore."

"Yeah. We all just want it to be over."

"Some of you have a passing chance to actually do something with your lives. Don't let him take that chance away from you now."

She sighed, "I know. It's just... hard. After everything we've all lived with."

"You're stronger than you think. Just…as cheesy as this sounds, I know you can do anything you put your mind to. So…" He let his words trail off.

She nodded. "You've given me, and the others, hope again. And that's something a lot of us had given up on."

"Well, don't," he said gruffly as he reached his car.

She smiled. "See you next week, Professor. Have a nice flight."

"Yes, yes, of course. Monday morning. And make sure all the papers are ready for the classes. We're already behind."

"They will be."

"And papers are due Wednesday for the advanced class."

"Most of them are already working on them."

"Well…good. But they're due Wednesday."

"Don't worry, Professor. Go enjoy your weekend."

"Yes, yes, I will, but I also don't want to hear any excuses come Wednesday. None of the 'dog ate my homework' crap that you all still think works on me," he grumbled as he unlocked his car and dumped his laptop bag and external drives into the back seat.

She just laughed and waved him off.

Rodney spent the drive home turning everything over and over in his mind. The thing with John, though just… He sighed. He couldn't not go down there this weekend. He had to interview Scarlett and he had told John he'd be there for him. He wouldn't go back on his word. He just wished that sometimes he could just fly off to the remotest corner of the world and forget John Sheppard ever existed.

Maybe, just maybe, he'd be able to get on with his life without the ache he had in his chest.

****

Tony's Pizza was far more upscale than he thought it would be. Apparently, she really did think he was rolling in the dough since he was supposedly working for Sheppard Industries. Scarlett was already there when he walked in and the hostess took him to the table in the back of the restaurant.

It was quieter back here and they'd be able to talk.

"Hey, McKay, long time no see."

"Same to you," he said with a half smile. She looked the same. A red-headed bombshell wrapped around a magnificent brain. "Nicer place than it sounded like."

"Hey, when you can afford the best, why not have it?"

Rodney snorted as he settled into the chair across from her. "So what questions do you have? You might as well start with them since I know you're barely holding yourself back." He tucked his laptop bag under the table by his feet.

She nodded. "What exactly is the job you want me to do?"

"I'm sure you've heard about Patrick Sheppard."

She nodded. "I heard his family was pretty broken up about it. He was a big man in this town."

"Yes, well, one of his sons, John, just came into a small fortune. He's currently a student at MIT and trying to run half of the company. Needless to say, he needs someone to keep him on track."

"Why doesn't he already have an assistant? He's one of the Sheppards - I'd think he'd be used to it."

"He was in the Air Force up until a year or so ago. That's where I met him. We worked together on the Base we'd been stationed at. This is all a little…new to him."

"But he's still a Sheppard, right? He grew up with money and servants and shit."

"And walked away from it when he went into the Air Force. He only reconciled with his father when he got back. And now this. He needs the help and I know that he'll never ask for it. So, I'm hiring him an assistant." Rodney paused as the waiter stopped by the table and they quickly placed an order to get him out of the way once again.

"Where was I?" He asked trying to get his thoughts back in order.

Scarlett tapped her fingers on the table. "So he's the black sheep I heard about, eh? I had heard rumors he was back in the fold a few months ago."

Rodney snorted and rolled his eyes. "Yes, yes. But the black sheep now owns half of Sheppard Industries."

She whistled. "Nice inheritance there."

"And he has no idea what to do with it."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm not exactly a money manager."

"But you can hire one for him. You can organize him. You can help him research new projects. He needs a life manager. Well, he needs a lot more than that, but it's a start."

"Hmm." She leaned back. "What kind of resources would I have? And how much access to him?"

"Resources?" Rodney smirked. "I'm not sure anything would really bankrupt him. He'll agree to almost anything within reason. Really big stuff might take a day or so. And access? He has a mansion to himself. I'm sure you could have an apartment there if you wanted it."

"No, I mean will he let me have full access to his life and make the necessary changes, or is he going to keep me filed away and never let me do what needs to be done?"

"He'll let you do whatever you need. You just need to be strong—just be yourself. Trust me."

"What kind of pay are we talking?"

Rodney took a breath and dove in. "One-fifty a year, with the chance to re-negotiate in six months."

She whistled. "Nice. And it's just for personal assistant, no raunchy stuff, right?"

"He already has a girlfriend."

"Good." She nodded. "All right, I'll give it a shot. It's way more than I'm making now, and I need a change anyway."

Rodney nodded and reached for the documents he'd printed out the night before. "You should find these all in order. Read them through and sign them."

She took them and started reading while they ate. "This all looks pretty standard. Have a pen?"

"Uh, yeah." He dug out a pen and handed it over.

She took it and signed. "When do I start?"

"Monday?" Rodney asked as he glanced up at her from scribbling his own name on the two sets of documents.

"Perfect. At the Sheppard Estate, right?"

Rodney nodded, sorting through the papers and handing her a copy. "Yes. You need the address?"

"It's on the paperwork. I'll Google the directions."

"I'll make sure Simon knows you're coming in Monday. Nine should be good. Simon is the butler, for all intents and purposes."

"Will he be the person, aside from John, that I should talk to about getting things done?"

"At first, yes, but you'll take over a lot of the things he's doing right now. He'll end up coming to you once you're settled in."

"The way I like it. What kind of setup am I walking in to technology wise?"

"You'll need to assess that first thing. Order what you need so you can get John organized and efficient. I doubt his phone has internet, so you'll probably need to update that as well."

She made a face. "How can he not have a smart phone?"

"He didn't want one," Rodney said rolling his eyes. "I don't think he even has a calendar on this current phone."

She shuddered. "This is going to be a challenge. Is he afraid of technology?"

"No," he said, shaking his head. "He just never saw the need for it. Do what you need to do. He'll love it once he has it. Trust me."

"Good. Nothing worse than trying to manage someone who doesn't want to be bothered with anything invented this century."

"Take a look at his media room. He loves technology. He just doesn't know what he needs."

"That I can work with." She grinned. "Anything else I should know about?"

"He can be stubborn about things, but he'll bend to your will if you explain things to him. Most of the time he needs protecting from himself," Rodney said as he polished off his food. His pasta had been amazing.

"All right, I'll come in on Monday and get him straightened out and organized."

"Good. Great. That's just what he needs."

"It's settled then. Perfect."

"So…dessert?"

She laughed. "Everything on the menu is great here."

"You eat here a lot?" he asked as he waved the waiter down to get a dessert menu. He wanted coffee—needed coffee—so he could deal with Sheppard later.

"Not a lot, but often enough."

"What do you suggest?"

"The pies are all fantastic."

"Hmm," Rodney said as he considered. The chocolate lava molten cake looked amazing.

"I'm doing the banana cream pie."

"I think the cake will work. With coffee." Rodney nodded to himself. At least this way he wouldn't have his sister complaining about what he ate since she wouldn't see it.

They ordered, and got to reminiscing about old times as they enjoyed dessert.

It was nice to talk to her again, to hear about her life. She'd been all over the place, but it seemed to suit her. She looked good, sounded happy.

"So what about you? What have you been up to?"

"Most of my working life is classified, so there's not much to tell you about." He glanced at his watch. "But I should probably be getting along."

She grinned. "I'll try to restrain myself from hacking systems to find out. I've mellowed, so not everything is a challenge these days. And yeah, I should probably get going too."

"Good. I don't need you to get yourself in trouble—or Sheppard in trouble." He narrowed his eyes. "You won't go and do something, will you?"

She laughed. "No, I won't. Don't worry."

"Good good," he said with a nod. "You can head off if you need to. I'll get the bill and get moving."

"Thanks." She stood up and grabbed her purse. "I'll catch you later then."

He nodded as she left and he finished paying for lunch and headed out. When he got to the house, Simon was waiting for him and took his bags from him. He was headed toward Sheppard's room when Rodney stopped him.

"No. The guest wing, Simon."

Simon raised an eyebrow. "We have your usual room prepared for you, sir."

"I don't want that room. I'm a guest so I need to be in the guest wing."

"Was that room not to your satisfaction? If so, we can fix whatever was wrong. I know Mr. Sheppard personally choose that room for you."

"Look, Simon. Things have…changed. Andrea's here now. The last thing he needs is me outside his door. Okay? Do you understand or do I need to go in more detail?"

Simon sighed, but began leading him in the other direction. "As you wish sir."

"And I have some paperwork I need you to file for me. John's personal assistant is starting Monday."

"I wasn't aware he had hired one."

"We did, this afternoon. Just make sure there's an office ready for her on Monday."

"Of course."

Simon led Rodney to a room near where Jeannie and Madison were staying. It was a great deal smaller than the one he'd been in, but it was just as opulent. He started unpacking as soon as Simon left.

About ten minutes later, there was suddenly a voice behind him. "What the hell are you doing down here?"

Rodney, in the middle of changing, was only in his boxers—in his way too thin boxers. "What!? Don't you knock anymore?" trying to settle his frantically-beating heart.

"No. Why are you down here? Your room is up in the other wing."

"Because you're living with your girlfriend there," Rodney said quietly, but firmly.

John started picking up Rodney's things and putting them back in the suitcase. "She's stayed there the last few nights, yes, but she's actually heading home tonight. Not to mention, last night we decided to stick with good friends because sex just isn't going to happen without one of us coming away maimed for life."

"I'm fine here," Rodney said, as he grabbed a shirt and a pair of pants John had taken.

"No, you're not. This isn't your room. The one upstairs is."

Rodney shook his head. "I'm not staying across from you and your girlfriend."

John grabbed his suitcase and closed it. "She's not staying overnight here anymore, unless we fall asleep watching a movie or something. And she's not my girlfriend. Just a good friend now."

"Give me back my clothes," Rodney said, his tone dead calm and serious.

"Fine, you know what, whatever. Stay where you want. I just... I can't do this right now. I just... it's too much, all at once." All the life seemed to drain out of John all at once.

"No kidding," Rodney said as he moved toward John and grabbed his suitcase. He hated that he'd put that look on his face, but it was better this way. He opened his suitcase and pulled out his pants and a top. "I've had a hellish week and an equally horrible plane trip and all I want to do is change and eat and relax, but instead you barged in looking for a fight."

"No, I came in looking for my friend It's just... between my father, and Andrea, and MIT... I just, I can't do it anymore. I can't..."

Rodney sighed as he pulled on his pants. John only had to last until Monday and he'd have help. "Look. I'm sorry," he said quietly. "If you'd rather I just leave, I can."

"No. I never want you to leave." John sat down looking defeated. "Did I tell you I'm withdrawing from school?"

Rodney's head came up and he shot John a withering look—not that he was actually looking at him. "You can't just withdraw. Do you know what I had to go through to get you in?"

"With Dad gone, now I own half the fucking business. I talked to Dave, and he's already convinced we don't have the manpower for me to even open what I want as a subsidiary of Sheppard Industries. And I can't abandon him again, not now. So my dreams and plans just got shot out of the fucking sky." John hadn't sounded this depressed and hopeless since they had first left Atlantis.

"No, they didn't. Hire some help. You'll be fine. You can't give up."

"What's left to fight for?" The bitterness in his voice was heartbreaking.

"John, look," Rodney said with a quiet sigh as he walked over to him. "Everything is going to seem really bad now, but it will get better. Trust me. Don't make any decisions now. Wait a few weeks and then re-evaluate everything. If you need help, hire people to help you. You can afford it."

"That's the other thing. What the fuck am I supposed to do with a fucking estate and all this money? I don't even know..."

"Live in it. Enjoy it. Don't make any decisions now."

John sighed. "It's all just... so much."

"I know and I'm sorry I've been an asshole lately. Just…try to enjoy it. Get help when you need it."

"You haven't been an asshole. I know you've been dealing with shit too."

"Doesn't mean I haven't been a bastard about things." Rodney sighed again and rubbed his face. Why couldn't thing be easy sometimes? "Let me put on a shirt and can we go and get some food before my blood sugar dips too low?"

"Yeah." John finally looked up, and Rodney could see the strain the man had been under all over his face. "Yeah, let's do that. Jeannie and Katie were conspiring in the kitchen again."

"Oh god," Rodney said, trying to put some effort into his response. If he could get John thinking about something else, this whole…thing would pass. "Please don't tell me they were experimenting with tofu."

"I don't know. Whatever they've been putting out lately has been good, though."

"Fine fine," he said as he pulled on a long-sleeved t-shirt. They headed down to the dining room and the rest of the evening ended up being pretty low-key. Even though there was something playing on the television, Rodney's attention kept getting sidetracked by John. He found himself just looking at him, watching him, wishing the looks and the touches he was giving Andrea were his instead.

He managed to nod off to sleep at some point and then was half-awake as his sister walked him to his new room and he fell into bed. His sleep, though, wasn't restful. He kept dreaming about the Wraith and that he was running and they were going to kill him and John.

The rest of the weekend went far too fast. Before he knew it, Rodney was back in Canada and back to the grind of college life.

Over the next few days, he was able to relax when Meyers didn't show up screaming about the security breach. Rodney finally knew he was in the clear to start really going through the data, and pulling out what he could to help Colts build the case.

He did it at night for several hours, compiling everything and handing it over to Colts the next morning. Ashley even managed to get some of the other students to talk, which meant they were building a stronger and stronger case against Meyers.

But mid-week, he started getting a weird feeling.

He wasn't sure what set it off, but when nothing appeared to be wrong, he tried to shrug it off as paranoia.

Wednesday night when he got to his car after a long day of classes, he found his right front tire was flat. Great. Just great.

Grumbling, he pulled out the spare and replaced it with a lot of grunting and sweat. Stupid manual labor.

He'd worry about getting it fixed when he got back from Kentucky. He'd just make Caleb drive to the airport in the morning. The college was closing on Thursday for some reason Rodney had heard about and promptly forgotten about. At least this would give them an extra day to spend down there before everyone came back home.

He wished he had a Scarlett he could just tell to get it done. Ah, the good old days when minions were ready to jump at his every command.

He missed his minions.

Sighing, he made himself a note and stuck it where he wouldn't miss it when he got back to remind him he was going to need to get a new tire.

He made it to Kentucky the next day without incident and John was waiting for them as soon as they excited customs.

"Hi, guys!" John handed him a Venti Starbucks coffee made exactly the way he liked it. For Caleb, there was a smaller, plain coffee.

"I thought we were renting a car."

"Nah, I wanted to come get you guys. I know everyone is heading home at the end of the weekend and you won't be back again for a while, so I wanted to be the one to pick you up and drop you off."

"Please tell me you brought a car that can fit our luggage and all of us. Your sad excuse for a mid-life crisis won't fit anything," Rodney said as he sipped on his coffee. It was perfect and he hated that John knew just what he liked.

John grinned and nodded. "I brought one of the other cars in the garage so I'd have enough room. Don't worry."

Rodney snorted as John led them outside. Sure enough, he had one of the normal cars—expensive, but normal—and soon they were on their way. They chatted easily on the way to the house, Caleb and John doing most of the talking as Rodney watched the scenery flash by.

When they got in, John hesitated. "Which room do you want to stay in? I can... I'll have them send the bags wherever you want."

"It's probably better if I stayed in the guest wing," Rodney said after a long moment.

John's face fell, but he nodded. "All right."

"I'm still in the house. It's not like I'm across the state or anything," he grumbled.

"I know, it's just... the other room is yours. I don't let anyone else stay there. I guess I keep hoping you'll use it again."

"I'm sure Andrea likes her privacy."

John rolled his eyes. "She doesn't care, but even if she did I wouldn't. You're my best friend. That's your room."

Rodney shook his head, looking around the front foyer. "She might not say anything to you, but all women care about stuff like that. For once in my life I'm trying to be sensitive to all that touchy-feely crap. Stop giving me a hard time about it."

"I'm not giving you a hard time. I'm letting them take your stuff to the other room against my better judgment, aren't I?"

Rodney sighed. "I don't want to fight with you. I just got here."

"We're not fighting." John clapped him on the shoulder. "We're communicating. When you're ready, come on down to the dining room. Katie made all your favorites, and I told Jeannie not to give you a hard time about what you ate for once."

Rodney snorted. "As if that would happen. She lives to harp on me and insult me. I haven't been here in five days, so she has to catch up." He took a few steps toward the guest wing. "I'll be a few minutes."

"All right." John smiled at him, but let him go without further comment.

The rest of the night and all day Friday, Rodney found himself in the middle of things. Sometimes Rodney swore he was in the middle of the circus, but just seeing the smile on John's face and how happy he looked made him cut his complaints short.

Saturday night Rodney was sipping on a Scotch in the downstairs den, the quiet comforting him after a long and hectic day out with the entire family—including Charlotte and Dave.

John wandered in with a drink in his hand and landed on the couch next to him. "Hey."

"Hey." He glanced up, looking toward the door. "Where's Andrea?"

"In bed. She had a long week, so she turned in early. I'm not ready yet, so I figured I'd come hang out with you."

"Oh." Actually, he hadn't been alone with John in ages, so this was different—and unexpected.

John kicked his feet up on the coffee table. "So we haven't had much time just to catch up with everything going on. How have you been?"

Rodney shrugged. "I work. You work. Nothing much else going on."

"Meyers still being an ass?"

"Of course. That's just about the only constant in the universe."

John made a face. "Anything you can do to get him out of there?"

Rodney offered another shrug as he took a sip of his drink. "What's there to do?" he asked, settling for another question instead of an answer. He didn't need John playing hero and getting all sidetracked.

"If there's anything I can do to help, just let me know." John just confirmed that it was better he not know just how bad it was, or where it was headed.

"How are you doing?" Rodney asked after a few minutes of silence.

"Scarlett is awesome. Did I thank you for that yet? You were right. I needed someone who could keep track of everything. It doesn't feel so... overwhelming now."

"So…not in trouble for messing with your life again?"

"No, not in trouble. You've never screwed up my life."

Rodney snorted. "Yet."

"I trust you."

"I've noticed that," Rodney said, sipping his drink. "Even after everything you seem to still trust me."

John smiled. "You're my best friend."

"I guess."

"You just guess?"

Rodney shrugged. "I guess I am right now, but that's already changing."

"That will never change, buddy."

"Of course it'll change. Everything changes."

"Friendships that are important are worth working for."

"Mmm, so Scarlett's settling in?"

"Yeah." John let him change the subject with nothing more than a raised eyebrow.

"She's good. Thought you'd get along with her, too."

"Where did you find her?"

"I knew her years ago," Rodney said with a huff as he thought back. "It's almost like another life now…college and my Masters and PhDs…she was good back then."

"What has she been doing since?"

"Well, after the government frowned on her hacking she kicked around for a while."

"What was she hacking in to?"

"When they caught her?" Rodney snorted again. "High-level classified black military projects."

John chuckled. "I'm surprised she was never recruited for Atlantis or the SGC."

"A little too much of a wildcard—and she'd never sign the non-disclosure agreement. She loves conspiracy theories."

"That doesn't surprise me, somehow. What made you think of her for me, though?"

"She's really good. Almost as good as me. I just…I thought you might get along."

John nodded. "She is like the female version of you in some ways. She just walks in and gets it done."

Rodney felt heat rise in his cheeks and glanced away. "Like I said, I thought you'd get along."

"So what else is new these days?"

"Nothing. I work for idiots and the students are barely competent on a good day." Rodney shrugged. "I discovered that Caleb can actually cook. I was impressed."

"He can cook? Like, real food?"

"Well, the tree-hugger likes tofu, but he stopped trying to feed it to me. Jeannie on the other hand will serve it three meals a day."

"Does she cook it so it tastes good most of the time at least?"

Rodney turned, glaring at John. "What do you think?"

"That your sister can be kind of sadistic sometimes."

"Exactly. You've had her here for two weeks already—and you lived with us for a while. You understand. She's out to get me for all the times I wasn't around."

"I don't know about that, but I have to admit, while your sister loves you, the two of you have a very... combative relationship."

Rodney snorted. "That's putting it mildly."

"I was trying to be polite," John laughed softly.

"Why? You're talking to me. Since when are you polite? Oh. Or is this an Andrea thing?"

John shook his head. "I just know my brother and I have our moments, but I get pissed if anyone else says the same things I do. Sort of an 'I'm the only one who can insult my sibling' kind of thing. I didn't know if you felt the same way, so figured I'd play it safe."

"This is the first time I've had any kind of relationship with my sister as an adult. I don't think I really have an opinion. I look at her sometimes and still see her as a college dropout with so much potential." Rodney sighed. "It's hard to look past that sometimes."

John reached over and squeezed his leg. "You're trying, and in the end, that's what counts. Just keep trying to at least accept that she's happy with her choice, even if you can't understand why she made it."

"They've already started talking about another ankle biter. I can't believe they'd want another one."

"Maddie is a good kid. And a lot of people aspire to be parents."

"And a lot of people don't go to college. Doesn't mean they're right."

"Maybe not. But at the end of the day, they're the ones who have to be happy with the choice, and in this case, I think Jeannie is happy."

"She's happy making my life miserable, yes, I'd agree with you there." Rodney drained the last of the alcohol in his glass and looked at it for a long moment, trying to decide if he wanted more.

"I don't think she made the choices she did just to spite you."

"No no. She didn't. I know that."

"But it's hard to remember that sometimes. I understand."

Rodney shrugged again, looking across the room at the bar.

John let out a breath. "Why don't we turn in? It's getting late."

"What?" Rodney said, looking at John. "Oh. I guess. What time is it?"

"Close to midnight."

"Huh. Explains why I'm tired."

"Exactly." John stood up and pulled Rodney to his feet. "Let's turn in for the night, buddy."

"I…ah…" He held his glass up. "Need to put this somewhere."

John took it out of his hand and set it on one of the end tables. "There you go. Problem solved."

"I can't just leave it there."

"Yes you can. I pay people to pick up after you."

"Yes, well, not all of us are as rich as you are," Rodney said with a huff as he headed for the door, strangely jealous and angry. John had everything. Love. Money. A mansion. A job. Looks.

"By pure fluke, I assure you. And I keep offering to give you money or fund something so you can start your own lab, but you keep turning me down."

"We've been through that before."

"So don't complain that I have money and you don't, when I'm trying to give it to you and you won't accept it."

"Fine," Rodney said tightly. "I won't mention it again."

"I'm not trying to pick a fight with you."

"It's fine, it's late. We should probably go to bed," Rodney said as he headed down the hallway, John following a few steps behind. "We'll be out of your hair tomorrow afternoon."

"Why are you suddenly looking for a reason to be mad at me? I don't want you to leave."

Rodney deflated a little, rubbing a hand over his face. It was complicated. It always was. "Look. I'm tired and the alcohol is doing its job of loosening my tongue. Just ignore me."

John squeezed his shoulder. "Go get some sleep, and we'll visit again before you head out."

Rodney bobbed his head and watched as John ambled to his wing of the house before Rodney turned and headed the opposite way to his room in the guest wing.

He really needed to get his head on straight. When was this fixation going to end?

Rodney ended up staring at the ceiling for most of the night, his mind spinning in every-increasingly tight spirals. He needed to get past this. John had someone, someone who loved him and cared for him. He didn't need Rodney. John was straight.

But no matter how many times he told himself that, a small piece of him was still hoping that maybe John wasn't as straight as Rodney knew him to be.

The "love" comment, constant touches when John avoided them with everyone else... it was all just enough to keep that part of his hope alive.

John tried to talk to him on Sunday before they left, but things were crazy. Between the bratty and whining Madison who didn't want to go back home to his sister ordering everyone around, Rodney ended up running around the house the entire morning. Even Simon was cowed by the sheer volume Jeannie could emit.

Finally, they were saying hasty goodbyes at the airport and rushing to get on the plane.

The flight home was horrible. Between choppy air and being shoved between a whining kid and sister, Rodney couldn't be off the plane fast enough.

He was grateful to finally get home that night. It might be a basement apartment, but he was alone.

He collapsed on his bed, wired from coffee and constant stimulation. And he had to go back to work in the morning to deal with the asshole. He's rather get fed on by the Wraith, but he didn't have much choice in the matter.

He debated if he wanted to go through some of the Ancient database to wind down.

He hadn't gotten as far with that as he'd wanted to lately. Honestly, the ZPM research was tough to get through on a good day, let alone exhausted from dealing with idiots all day long.

He sighed. Why couldn't it be easy?

Rodney did finally pull himself up and moved into the small workroom he'd set up in the back of the basement where the secure servers and his high-end computer were housed. He booted everything up and settled in, starting to work through some of the equations and notes.

It was surprisingly easy to fall into the rhythm of it, and for a while, he didn't think about anything except the science.

He stumbled into bed in the early hours of the morning, numbers and figures floating through his dreams. Work the next day was as horrible as he anticipated.

The only upside? Meyers still hadn't figured out that Rodney had hacked into his system.

Well, that, and the fact that some of his students seem to actually be worried about him—if his constant babysitters were any indication. Instead of getting better, it was getting worse. He tried bringing it up with Ashley, but she ignored him and foisted more grant applications on him.

He was being managed and he had no idea how to fix it.

Zelenka knew better than to do that to him. He knew the Wrath of McKay was a real and frightening thing.

It was like they didn't know he was scary and ill-tempered and bad with people.

They just…laughed at him and did whatever they wanted anyway. Where was the fear? Where was the quaking? What the hell was wrong with him if he couldn't get students to fear him?

He sighed as Ashley came waltzing in to drop a few more grant proposals on his desk.

"What are these? And shouldn't you be in class?"

"Professor Thesdale is sick today, so her classes were canceled. And those are more proposals for you to look at." She gave him the "duh" look.

Rodney narrowed his eyes—something that usually made his scientists quake with fear. Ashley just rolled her eyes.

"When you're done with those, I have the papers from last week ready for you. I went through and marked up all the obvious errors, but I know you'll want to give them a read-through before grading them."

"You want me to do this now?"

She raised an eyebrow. "What else are you working on?"

"Something that's none of your business." He glared at her, but she just got up and walked around his desk.

He really needed to work on terrorizing these students more.

He minimized the window he had open. He'd been looking into some of the financial shenanigans Meyers had been up to.

He looked at the stack of papers, and was grateful that the bulk of the work was already done. All he really needed to do was add some insults about the intelligence of the writers and he was done in forty-five minutes.

"Don't you have somewhere else to be?" he scowled at her as she shoved him out of her way to look at his computer.

"I'm your TA, my entire existence revolves around you."

"Well, then go and do something TA-ish and let me work."

"That's what I'm doing." She pulled up a window. "You need to go through these and approve them."

"No! Why would I do that? I'm just not going to do everything you say. What are they?" He looked over her shoulder.

"These are the grants we've been offered. Unfortunately, I don't know enough to approve them or request changes, so you'll have to do it."

"Yes yes. You gave me the papers already. Aren't they the same?"

"No. Those were applications for new grants. These are grants we've applied for and they've gotten back to us."

"Oh come on! There's more?"

She grinned. "Sorry Professor M, you've got to work today."

"I work every day." He glared at her as she walked back around his desk.

"Yes, but today you need to do something specific. I'll be back in an hour."

"An hour! You're a slave-driver! That's what you are. You're supposed to be working for me, not the other way around."

"I learned from the best. Now get to work." She closed his office door behind her.

Rodney grumbled under his breath, but quickly got to work on the grant proposals. She was right, she didn't know a lot of this stuff. He did have to do it. It didn't make it sit any better, though.

Once he got into the groove of it, he managed to accept five requests and ask for clarifications or amendments to four others.

Almost an hour later, his door opened again. Did people not believe in knocking anymore? He glanced up, a frown on his face.

"Professor? You have a guest."

"A guest? Who?"

"Professor Colts."

It took a few seconds for the name to process and then Rodney found himself on his feet as Colts walked in. "Oh. Professor Colts."

"McKay. Sit down." Colts took a seat in his guest chair as Ashley closed the door.

"Ah…Professor. How can I help you?" He didn't want to ask him why the hell he was in his office. That he knew was rude.

"I just wanted to stop by and let you know we're proceeding with the charges. We'll be filing formal paperwork tomorrow morning first thing, and there's no telling how Meyers will react, so I wanted to give you a heads up to be prepared."

"Oh…ah. Thanks. I'm still finding other information on him. I haven't had as much time to go through everything with my travel to the States the last two weeks."

Colts nodded. "As you get more, forward it to me and I'll pass it along to the right people to help strengthen the case."

"Yes yes. I'm going through some of the financial records now." Rodney was a little shocked, in a honesty. They were going ahead with this. "You…ah…were able to get some girls to come forward?"

"Yes, thanks to you. Your assistant was the first, and she got three other girls to come forward. She also gave us the names of several former students we're following up with as well."

"Oh, wow. Ashley did all that?"

"She's a very bright young woman. You choose well when you decided to pull her out of Meyers' clutches and put her to work for you."

"I…well, yes. I can recognize competence. I worked for the government for years. You need to be able to figure that out pretty quickly."

"Excellent. Keep up that attitude. And be prepared for a backlash from Meyers. Right now, it's in our best interest to let him react. Document as much as you can, since that will only help the case."

Rodney bobbed his head. "I can deal with hissy fits."

"Good. I'll be in touch as I have more information, and continue to forward what you find along as fast as you can."

"Yes yes, I will," Rodney said as he stood, stretching out his hand to shake Colts'.

Colts stood up and shook his hand, then headed for the door. "Let me know if you need anything else."

"I will. Thanks again for taking this seriously. Unfortunately the dean wasn't as…open minded."

Colts rolled his eyes. "He's an idiot."

"Yes, well, it seems I have a knack for finding idiots to work for." He paused, realizing how bad that sounded. "Not that you're an idiot…professor."

Colts chuckled. "I'll talk to you soon, McKay."

"Yes, yes," he said, watching Colts go. He dropped down into his chair and put his head in his hands. Holy crap.

This was actually moving forward. Meyers was going to be held accountable.

Meyers was going to be insane—even more than before.

At the weekly staff meeting, Meyers kept glaring at him. Rodney ignored him—or tried to as best as he could. Instead of taking notes at the weekly "meeting of doom", he shot an email to John. He couldn't get away with texting, but with the laptop at least it looked like he was working and very studious.

****

From: M. Rodney McKay [mailto:rodneymckayphdphd@gmail.com]  
Sent: Thursday, May 22 2008 10:19 AM   
To: John [mailto:CowboyFlyboy@gmail.com]

I want to spork my eyes out. Think anyone would notice?

****

To: John [mailto:CowboyFlyboy@gmail.com]  
Sent: Thursday, May 22 2008 10:23 AM   
To: M. Rodney McKay [mailto:rodneymckayphdphd@gmail.com]

Depends. Are you going to do it there in front of them?

****

From: M. Rodney McKay [mailto:rodneymckayphdphd@gmail.com]  
Sent: Thursday, May 22 2008 10:25 AM   
To: John [mailto:CowboyFlyboy@gmail.com]

Of course. Why should I inconvenience myself?

****

From: John [mailto:CowboyFlyboy@gmail.com]   
Sent: Thursday, May 22 2008 10:29 AM   
To: M. Rodney McKay [mailto:rodneymckayphdphd@gmail.com]

They'll probably notice then.

****

From: M. Rodney McKay [mailto:rodneymckayphdphd@gmail.com]  
Sent: Thursday, May 22 2008 10:31 AM   
To: John [mailto:CowboyFlyboy@gmail.com]

You say it like it's a bad thing.

****

From: John [mailto:CowboyFlyboy@gmail.com]   
Sent: Thursday, May 22 2008 10:33 AM   
To: M. Rodney McKay [mailto:rodneymckayphdphd@gmail.com]

Well, it depends on what you're going for. Mass hysteria or something more subtle.

****

From: M. Rodney McKay [mailto:rodneymckayphdphd@gmail.com]  
Sent: Thursday, May 22 2008 10:34 AM   
To: John [mailto:CowboyFlyboy@gmail.com]

Sometimes I miss the Wraith. Is that bad?

****

From: John [mailto:CowboyFlyboy@gmail.com]   
Sent: Thursday, May 22 2008 10:36 AM   
To: M. Rodney McKay [mailto:rodneymckayphdphd@gmail.com]

Hmm, life stealing aliens or life stealing meetings? That's a tough choice.

****

From: M. Rodney McKay [mailto:rodneymckayphdphd@gmail.com]  
Sent: Thursday, May 22 2008 10:37 AM   
To: John [mailto:CowboyFlyboy@gmail.com]

At least with the Wraith you knew where you stood. They wanted to eat you. Simple, but straight-forward. With these jokers anything goes. I'm not sure what they want anymore.

****

From: John [mailto:CowboyFlyboy@gmail.com]   
Sent: Thursday, May 22 2008 10:38 AM   
To: M. Rodney McKay [mailto:rodneymckayphdphd@gmail.com]

Just hang in there. Once Meyers is gone, it will get better.

****

From: M. Rodney McKay [mailto:rodneymckayphdphd@gmail.com]  
Sent: Thursday, May 22 2008 10:39 AM   
To: John [mailto:CowboyFlyboy@gmail.com]

Maybe. Some days I'm not sure anymore that I'm cut out for academia.

****

From: John [mailto:CowboyFlyboy@gmail.com]   
Sent: Thursday, May 22 2008 10:41 AM   
To: M. Rodney McKay [mailto:rodneymckayphdphd@gmail.com]

Are you looking around for something else? It can't hurt to send out queries.

****

From: M. Rodney McKay [mailto:rodneymckayphdphd@gmail.com]  
Sent: Thursday, May 22 2008 10:44 AM   
To: John [mailto:CowboyFlyboy@gmail.com]

There's nothing else. It took my brother-in-law begging for the college to offer me something. My father's wrath will never end.

****

From: John [mailto:CowboyFlyboy@gmail.com]   
Sent: Thursday, May 22 2008 10:45 AM   
To: M. Rodney McKay [mailto:rodneymckayphdphd@gmail.com]

Want me to write a recommendation or something? Or I could ask around at the labs I work with.

****

From: M. Rodney McKay [mailto:rodneymckayphdphd@gmail.com]  
Sent: Thursday, May 22 2008 10:44 AM   
To: John [mailto:CowboyFlyboy@gmail.com]

And what good will that do? There's nothing open. No job postings. No nothing. And besides. I started something here. I need to finish it.

****

From: John [mailto:CowboyFlyboy@gmail.com]   
Sent: Thursday, May 22 2008 10:49 AM   
To: M. Rodney McKay [mailto:rodneymckayphdphd@gmail.com]

All right. If you change your mind, though, I can ask around to see if anyone is looking. A lot of those places recruit, rather than post a job listing or anything.

****

From: M. Rodney McKay [mailto:rodneymckayphdphd@gmail.com]  
Sent: Thursday, May 22 2008 10:52 AM   
To: John [mailto:CowboyFlyboy@gmail.com]

Seriously considering a spork. Or maybe a fork. If I jab it in my thigh deep enough, I might have to go to the health office. The nurse was cute.

****

From: John [mailto:CowboyFlyboy@gmail.com]   
Sent: Thursday, May 22 2008 10:53 AM   
To: M. Rodney McKay [mailto:rodneymckayphdphd@gmail.com]

Self-mutilation is not the way to get a date.

****

From: M. Rodney McKay [mailto:rodneymckayphdphd@gmail.com]  
Sent: Thursday, May 22 2008 10:54 AM   
To: John [mailto:CowboyFlyboy@gmail.com]

Oh yes. You would know.

****

From: John [mailto:CowboyFlyboy@gmail.com]   
Sent: Thursday, May 22 2008 10:55 AM   
To: M. Rodney McKay [mailto:rodneymckayphdphd@gmail.com]

Yeah, yeah.

****

Rodney stopped emailing John to actually pay attention to the meeting. It sounded like it was winding down. Maybe that meant he could actually go and do something useful—like grade papers. There was another week or two of the semester and then he had some time off before summer session started.

At least the summer would be quieter, at least.

He planned to spend some quality time with the Ancient databases, cleaning and organizing his notes on ZPM research, and moving that forward.

He'd be finished with all the Meyers files by the weekend and then the rest of the time could be devoted to research. He was actually looking forward to it.

"McKay, care to join the rest of us in this meeting, or are you too busy watching porn on that laptop to actually pay attention."

Rodney snorted and rolled his eyes. "Actually, I'm going through some research I plan to do this summer."

Meyers sneered at him. "I shudder to think what you could be 'researching.'"

"Advanced physics. Something that's way beyond your limited ability to comprehend."

"Sure, McKay. Advanced Physics. Measuring how far the breasts of the latest porn star bounce?" The others around the table twittered nervously.

"Actually, I thought that was your project, Meyers. I wouldn't want to rain on your parade."

The twitters got louder as the other teachers were obviously trying to make it seem like they weren't uncomfortable with the line the conversation was taking. "We'll see who's laughing last, McKay."

"Oh, I know who'll be laughing last, Meyers," Rodney said, closing his laptop. "I'd recommend checking their IDs again because some of them might be underage. Would suck if you were caught experimenting with one of those."

"I'd be more concerned with my own backside if I were you, McKay, instead of poking your nose where it isn't wanted."

Rodney rolled his eyes again and waved Meyers off. He was full of hot air.

"Meeting dismissed. Everyone get back to work."

Rodney got up and headed back to his office. He had a few more papers to grade before the final on Monday. Then final grades and the end of the semester.

When he finally finished and headed out for the day, it was to discover all four of his tires, not just flat, but slashed wide open.

Rodney closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened them again, nothing had changed. This was more than just a call to roadside assistance. He knew he should report it, but he was reluctant to.

He pulled out his cell phone, hoping Caleb hadn't already left for the day so he could at least get a ride home.

It rang twice before Caleb picked up. "Where are you?"

"Hello? Mer?"

"Yes, that's my name. Where are you?"

"I'm just leaving my office. Why?"

"Good, good. You can bring me home."

"What's wrong with your car?"

"Someone didn't like the way I graded the last test and they decided to express their displeasure on my car. I'll get it fixed in the morning."

Caleb made a sympathetic noise. "I'll pull around and get you. Are you parked in the same area as last time?"

"Same spot as I usually am."

"I'm on my way. You might want to park in one of the other lots. This one seems dangerous."

"It's the closest one to my office."

"Yeah, but someone keeps slashing your tires. A longer walk would cost you less in the long run."

"It's just stupid pranks."

"Yeah, but this has happened, what, three times already now?"

"Five, but who's counting?"

"And you still park in the same place?"

Rodney sighed. "Where are you?"

"Almost to my car. I'll be there in a few minutes."

"What do you mean almost to your car? I thought you were in your car. You know the sunlight is not good for me. I burn easily."

"I'll see you soon, Mer." Caleb hung up.

Rodney scowled at the phone. "My name is Rodney."

Five minutes later, Caleb's car came around the corner.

Rodney pushed himself away from the car he'd been leaning on. He tugged the door open as soon as Caleb stopped beside him. "Took you long enough."

"Wow, that's not just a flat tire, is it?"

"I'm failing half of the science 101 class. They're not happy about it."

"Are all four like that?"

"Yes. I don't think they've changed since I looked at then ten minutes ago. All four are flat."

"That's not just flat. Those tires will have to be completely replaced."

"Yes, I am aware of that. Are we driving home or are we going to sit here staring at something I can't change today?"

Caleb shrugged, but pulled out of the parking lot.

The ride home was tense and silent, which was fine with Rodney. He had other things to think about—like the ZPM research he'd just started getting somewhere on.

When they walked in, he managed to make it down to his apartment without being intercepted by Jeannie. A minor miracle.

Of course, he still had to emerge for food, but he could wait until the little terror was in bed. He had some snacks he could eat to hold him.

It was a blessedly quiet night, marred only by the brief conversation he had with the tow company to arrange to have his tires replaced.

Thankfully he had Friday off, so he could take his time to get the car fixed. Granted, he had plenty to do to finish up, but he had all day to do it.

When the house above was quiet, he snuck up for leftovers and managed to make it back down without incident.

He worked on his research for the rest of the night, eating his snacks until his fingers walked across the empty plate and he looked up to see it was four in the morning. He fell into bed not long after, sleeping restlessly until his cell rang at eight.

"This Mr. McKay?"

"Doctor McKay, yes," he grumbled, trying to shove himself into a seated position.

"This is the tow company. We're here to get your car."

"Oh. Good good. It's in the spot at the college. Ah…near the science building. Blue Prius."

The man grunted. "We'll find it. You can pick it up at the yard in a few days."

"A few days? How long does it take to put tires on a car? They told me it would be ready tonight."

"Then call the office. I was told to bring it in and tell you to pick it up Monday."

"I talked to the office last night. It has to be ready tonight. They agreed it would be ready tonight."

"Not my problem. I just bring it in. Blue Prius with all the tires slashed. That you?"

Rodney sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "Unfortunately."

"All right, we'll bring it in." The man hung up without waiting for Rodney to respond.

Wonderful, he thought to himself as he scrolled through his recent calls and selected the place he'd called last night. It rang twice before someone picked up—all bright and chirpy. He cut her off before she went through the whole spiel.

"I need to talk to Adam."

"Adam's not here right now. I can take a message if you'd like. Or, if you want, I can try to help you."

"This is Doctor McKay. I spoke to him last night about getting my tires fixed. The tow company is picking up the car right now and Adam promised me it would be finished today. I need to confirm that now."

"One moment, let me check the records." He heard the clicking of keys in the background. "Ah, here we go. It looks like he put in an order last night, but we only have three of the tires you need. We won't get the fourth in until Sunday night, so the car should be ready by Monday."

"He guaranteed it would be ready. I have it in writing. Find a way to have it ready."

"I'm sorry sir, that's the soonest we can get the tire in. If you look at the contract, you'll see it says the estimated date of pickup is based on parts availability."

"No. He gave me the written guarantee. The only way I went with your firm. I don't care who you have to call to get that tire, I will pick up my car tonight."

"Well sir, I can only go by what's in the computer. Adam gets in this afternoon. If you'd like I can have him call you then."

"You can take the message, but if my car is not finished by the time Adam guaranteed me it would be yesterday, you won't get paid for the work." He ended the call before he could get any more annoyed.

God, he hated dealing with stupid people.

He'd managed to take a shower and brush his teeth and his phone was ringing again—a cowboy theme he'd found somewhere. John.

When he picked up, John's drawl greeted him. "Hey."

"Yes, what?" Rodney let his towel drop to the floor as he tried to climb into his boxers, his skin still damp in places from the shower.

"I wanted to get your help on something. I'm working on a research paper for my degree, and I wanted to bounce some ideas off of you, if you have the time."

"I haven't had coffee yet," Rodney said as more of a warning than a no.

"Ouch. Okay, want to call me back in an hour after you're caffeinated?"

"Yes, fine. An hour?"

"I'll be waiting."

"Fine," Rodney said, ending the call and dropping the phone on his unmade bed. He took a breath and pulled on jeans and a shirt. He headed upstairs to get some food and coffee only to run into Jeannie in the kitchen.

"Your car was vandalized again?"

"It's being taken care of," Rodney said as he stepped around her, aiming for the coffee pot. He grabbed a mug from the cabinet and started pouring.

"This isn't normal to have this much car trouble. Especially with your tires. Those were brand new."

"And they'll be brand new again."

"Okay, spill. Who have you pissed off this much?"

"I failed more than half of the intro science class."

"That's not enough motivation to slash tires. Kids fail all the time."

"Some of them were seniors."

"So? Caleb has failed seniors before and he's never had his tires slashed."

"They'll have to take summer classes—with me—or take another class in the fall. They won't graduate this year. They were pissed."

She let out a breath. "Fine. Just... be careful."

Rodney put the coffee pot very carefully, holding back the urge to bang it on the counter. If he broke it there would be no more coffee today and today was already shaping up to be a multi-pot day. "Do you think I try to make people mad at them? It's like you think I antagonize people on purpose. I don't."

"I know." She was quiet for a moment. "I just worry."

"I'd worry about the brat growing up to be a hooligan, too, if I were you," he said, moving to the fridge to grab the milk.

"I worry about everyone in my family, Mer."

"Well, you don't have to worry about me. I managed to avoid getting eaten by the Wraith. I can take college students."

She huffed. "Students are scarier."

"No, they're really not."

She shrugged. "Just be careful."

"I am careful. I have a very well developed sense of self-preservation," Rodney said, pouring in his milk before returning it to the fridge. "I can't stop college students from being idiots."

"Fine. Sorry I bothered to care. " She made a face at him. "Maddie and I are going to the park this afternoon if you'd like to join us, not that I really think you will."

Rodney shook his head. "Things to do, first of which is hand-hold Sheppard again. He has issues with an MIT project."

She rolled her eyes. "I think he makes these up so he has an excuse to spend half the day talking to you."

"I didn't talk to him yesterday." That was if you didn't consider the emails.

She snorted. "You two are worse than teenage girls. Go talk to your friend."

"I was told to get caffeinated first."

"Isn't' that what's in your hand?"

"He gave me an hour. I can have a few by then."

She rolled her eyes again. "At least eat something with all that coffee."

"So what are you making me?"

"A knuckle sandwich?"

"Come on. You can fry me up some eggs."

"Nice try. Make it yourself. You don't want my help, remember." She gave him a smug look before walking out of the kitchen.

Rodney muttered some really not nice things under his breath before pulling out the pans. He made himself an egg sandwich and headed downstairs with a new cup of coffee.

He settled in with his computers open, one on his Atlantis research, and the other open to help John with whatever problem he was having.

He called John with two minutes to spare—fed and caffeinated.

"Hey. Feeling more human now?"

"That depends. Am I supposed to want to punch my sister in the face?"

"That's generally a bad idea. What did she do this time?"

Rodney sighed. "The usual. What did you need help with?"

"My paper is the basis for my thesis, which is going to focus on combining aero- and astronautical engineering. I want to show that a craft can be designed and used both in and out of atmosphere with equal efficiency, but I'm worried about how much I can talk about without giving away classified secrets.

Rodney snorted. "I didn't think you actually listened to anything Radek or I said."

"I always listened." He heard keys typing in the background. "I just sent you a copy of what I have, and the section I'm worried about is on page fifteen. It's not anything related to Atlantis, but at the same time, it's talking about concepts that you guys pioneered. I don't want to get either of us in trouble."

"Mmmm, yes," Rodney said, pulling up the email as it popped into his inbox. "Let me read it."

"Okay. Take your time."

"Scarlett still keeping you on track?" Rodney asked as he skimmed the paper. It wasn't horrible. Rodney resisted the urge to fix things. He would only do that later if John asked.

"Better than I could have imagined."

"Good good," he said, humming a bit as he got into the paper. "Yes, yes. I see the problem. You can probably explain a little more…but you need to be more theoretical."

"If you have any suggestions or changes, feel free to make them."

"Hmm. No. You need to finish it first."

John snorted. "How about this? I'm sending you a new paragraph."

"So I'm doing your edits now?"

"You got me into this, it's the least you can do. This is just the first draft. Once I have it in halfway decent shape, I'll send it over for you to edit the whole thing for me."

"Yeah yeah," Rodney said vaguely as he pulled up John's new email, reading the new paragraph. "Hmm…okay. Have you thought about going down a different track altogether?"

"Like what? I want this to be the jumping off point for my whole thesis, which will include the equations and schematics for a hypothetical craft that I will convince you to build for me some day."

Rodney snorted and rolled his eyes, but started talking, outlining another way to approach the same topic, bouncing ideas off of John.

They spent an hour refining the ideas, until John had a good idea of where to go next. He promised Rodney a draft soon so he could read the whole thing.

"Now…go and do some work," Rodney said.

"Sir, yes sir!" John chuckled. "I'll talk to you later. Thanks."

Rodney rolled his eyes and went back to his own research, emerging every few hours from his small office to get food from the kitchen upstairs—along with more coffee. Jeannie finally dragged him upstairs when the tow company showed up with his car—with four new tires on it.

"Need you to sign here."

"There are four new tires?" Rodney asked instead, walking around the car to check.

"Yes sir. The ones on your car were beyond repair."

"I knew that but the jokers at your company seemed to have some issues with that." Rodney nodded to himself as he checked each one before taking the clipboard from the guy and scrawling his name at the bottom of the form. "That it?"

"Yup. Good luck."

Rodney waved him off and watched as he left, letting out a long breath of air and some of the tension he hadn't realized he'd been holding onto. Car: fixed. John: on the right track. Research: slow, but ongoing.

All in all, it had been a pretty good day.

****

Ashley came screaming into his office Tuesday morning, waving a piece of paper with the college's logo on it.

"He's gone! We did it!"

Rodney raised his hand and pointed at her. "Stop. Breathe and then try it again. You might be a graduated senior, but you're still working for me this summer."

She took a deep breath, then handed the piece of paper over. "We just got this memo. Professor Meyers was arrested last night on charges of extortion and sleeping with minors, not to mention using the school for personal financial gains."

Rodney took the paper from her, narrowing his eyes at her before looking at it himself. It seemed official. It looked official.

He looked up again. "Where did you get this from again?"

"It was delivered to your mailbox. I opened it when I was sorting your mail for you just now."

"First things first. Confirm it, please. Call Colts' office."

"All right!" She rushed out back to her desk.

Rodney took a deep breath, trying to calm his own nerves. He wanted it to be true. He needed it to be true. He wasn't all that surprised to get an email from John a few minutes later. Apparently the story was true—especially since it made it to the Globe and Mail.

Holy crap. It was true.

Ashley came running back in. "Professor Colts' office just confirmed the memo came from them and is official. Professor Meyers was arrested last night!"

"And it's in the paper, too."

She jumped around his office. "It's over! It's really over! I have to call the others and see if they've heard!"

"Ashley!" he yelled, trying to be heard over her.

She was running back out the door though, presumably heading for the phone again.

Step one was done, but this was far from over. There was still a trial. There was still more to come.

But at least Meyers couldn't hurt anyone anymore. That was a start.

And Rodney could get some perverse delight in the thought that he had to wear an ankle monitor—at least according to the newspaper report.

It was a weight on his shoulders that had been heavy for months now that just seemed to fly away all at once, leaving him almost lightheaded.

He chuckled to himself, the sound a little hysterical even to his own ears. Of course, that's when Ashley careened back into his office. She was bouncing off the walls.

"Everyone is passing the news along! They're all coming here, and bringing stuff to party!"

Rodney opened his mouth to yell at her, to complain, but he quickly shut it again. They deserved a party. They deserved this. It would only get hard once again.

She was grinning from ear to ear. "You have to come out and at least let us toast you, Professor McKay. You're the hero of the day!"

He shook his head. "You did the hard part. I was just the…enabler."

"You made it happen. Without your help, none of us would have had the courage to speak up." She came around and surprised him with a fierce hug. "Thank you."

He patted her back a little awkwardly. "You're welcome."

She stood up, and actually had tears in her eyes as she smiled at him. "I'll go meet the girls as they come in and set up!"

"Ashley," he said quietly, the soft tone of his voice catching her attention. He smiled up at her. "This is all because of you, of what you did. You were the brave one. You're the one who made the difference here."

Her smile was huge. "And I couldn't have done it without you having faith in me, Professor."

He rolled his eyes. "Don't sell yourself short."

"I'm not, but the same goes for you. Don't underestimate yourself."

Rodney narrowed his eyes at her. "Excuse me?"

"We might have been the ones to testify, and I know there's no case without that. But none of us would have had the courage to do it if we didn't know you were behind us."

He rolled his eyes. "Stop exaggerating. Now go and do whatever you were doing. Some of us work to do today."

She grinned and bounced out the door.

The festivities lasted all day.

The science department was overflowing with pretty young women. He was a little shocked—even he hadn't realized how deep this had gone until they all came out of the woodwork, no longer afraid of retribution.

Rodney couldn't imagine what Meyers was going through right now—or what his wife thought of the accusations. Rodney would love to see him try to explain all of this to his wife.

He was just glad it wasn't going to be him.

The hate mail started two days later. Rodney couldn't figure out how it was getting into his office, but the nasty ransom-esque styled notes started showing up on his desk.

None of them were signed, but they all had Meyers's tone and style. How was he even getting them out of the prison?

Unless he had minions. But that wasn't fair. He didn't deserve minions.

Rodney tried to ignore them, until one day, about two weeks after Meyers was first arrested; he headed out at the end of the day and smelled gasoline near his car.

He immediately stepped back, retreating several feet before he called campus security. When it was all said and done an hour later, the only thing they could tell him is that there had been a little gas on the ground, but other than that, there was nothing wrong.

All of the gas lines had been checked, and his car had been looked over for anything that might be out of place, but in the end, it just looked like a little gas had been spilt on the ground.

He drove carefully home, paranoid at first, but when nothing happened in the first fifteen minutes, he relaxed, enjoying the scenery the rest of the way.

He shook his head at himself. If John were here, Rodney knew he'd say he was being paranoid.

But he had reason to be paranoid. He didn't trust Meyers—house arrest or not.

And that thought made his blood pressure go up. Instead of keeping the man in prison, he was living at home in luxury, plotting his next step. Didn't these people realize this was a dangerous man? Even unable to leave his house, with the kind of freedom being at home offered, he was not someone to ignore.

Although they claimed he wasn't dangerous. A flight-risk, yes. Dangerous, no.

Rodney sighed as he pulled into the driveway. His years of working with the military and off-world deranged populations had made him more aware of what people were capable of.

Dinner was quiet, Jeannie for once not attacking him for being sullen and silent.

He was able to slip downstairs where he could lose himself in his research for at least a little while.

Things, though, kept happening. Nothing was big. Nothing was really…wrong. But all of it was making Rodney more and more paranoid. He'd stopped mentioning things to John because he knew it sounded like a crazy person—and that was the last thing he needed.

His tires were slashed several more times—he was beginning to think he should take out stock in rubber—and the gas smell returned a few times, but it was nothing people around him couldn't write off.

He finally waved goodbye to Ashley at the end of August as she headed to the States—to MIT—to continue her doctorate work. She hadn't even needed the letter of recommendation Rodney had sent on her behalf. If Rodney was still working for the SGC, he'd been keeping an eye on her. If Carter was smart, she'd been keeping an eye on anyone Rodney took an interest in.

The new school year began without too much fanfare. Rodney had his classes and his routine. He taught, tried not to strangle his new TA, and spent the rest of his free time researching ZPMs. It only took a month of the new routine to get Jeannie all up in arms. Honestly, he was surprised she lasted that long.

She came barging into his room almost as soon as he got home one Friday night. "Mer, you are watching Madison tonight. Caleb and I need some alone time, and you haven't been pulling your weight around the house anyway. Watching her for an evening is the least you can do."

"You can just take her with you. I'm busy," he said without looking up from his computer screen.

"No, Meredith. You're going to watch her so Caleb and I can go to dinner and communicate like adults. You sit down here all the time by yourself and we don't ask for much. We don't even charge you rent. Tonight you're going to watch Madison."

"I'm busy," he said, finally lifting his head. "This is Nobel prize level work. I can't spend my night babysitting the brat. Get a teenager to do it. I'll even pay."

"No. You are going to spend one evening with your head out of your ass getting to know your niece. She loves you, God knows why, and wants to know why you never talk to her. Tonight, you are going to."

"You can't just order me to do something because it strikes your fancy. I'm an adult and older than you and you're not my boss or commanding officer."

"No, you're my brother who's living in my house and eating my food for free, and now I'm asking you to help out by watching Madison."

"You're not asking. You're ordering." He turned his chair toward her, crossing his arms over his chest.

"You can either come upstairs in an hour, or I'll bring her down here to sit with you. That's your only choice." Jeannie walked back upstairs without waiting for an answer.

He cursed under his breath and followed her upstairs—and right into her bedroom where she was getting changed. "You know that's not going to work. I could just take my car and go somewhere else and leave you high and dry and wishing you were at least civil to me—especially when you're demanding I do something for you."

"We both know you won't just walk out on Madison. You might like to pretend and bluster, but even you aren't willing to leave a child alone."

"Are you sure about that?" he asked, arms crossed as he narrowed his eyes at her. "I'm an asshole. I've done worse."

She rolled her eyes as she put on makeup, something he had to give her credit for - doing both at once seemed hazardous. "You might be an asshole at times, but you're not heartless. Caleb and I just need the night, Mer. I'm not asking a lot here."

"Your asking for help leaves a lot to be desired."

She glanced over at him. "Oh, like you can talk."

"Well, right now you're the one asking for a favor."

"I've already made dinner and left it in the fridge, all you have to do is heat it up. Her bedtime is 9pm—don't let her convince you it's any later."

Rodney narrowed his eyes. "So what do I get as compensation for this?"

"You get to eat dinner and live in my basement."

"No. That's not what I'm talking about."

"That's what you're getting. I don't ask for much, but this time you're going to help out."

"Let me get my keys, then and I'll leave you and Caleb alone for the night," he said, turning to walk back downstairs.

"Meredith Rodney McKay. You are going to stay here and watch Madison so my husband and I can have dinner together as adults and partners. We haven't had a night out just the two of us in more than a year."

Rodney turned, angry and tired of how she treated him. It was just like mom—all over again. "No! You don't have the right to do that, to say that," he said, his words heated as he pointed angrily at her. "No. I'm not someone you can just walk over and I don't deserve the distain I get from you, like I'm no better than the dirt under your feet."

"I don't treat you like dirt, Mer. That's only in your own mind. I try to treat you like family, a person who actually spends time with us and not just a ghost in the house. If by that I'm somehow infringing on your rights, well then you can find somewhere else to live. All I ever ask is that you join us for dinner occasionally, and now that you watch Madison once. One time in all the time you've lived here."

"I spend time with you. I eat dinner nearly every night with you, but apparently that's not enough. Fine," he said throwing his hands up in the air. "Go out. I don't care. It's not like you care what happens to me or what I'm doing."

She rolled her eyes. "Stop being so melodramatic. It's babysitting, Meredith. One night, for a few hours while Caleb and I go out to dinner. Why is that so much to ask?"

"Whatever," he said, stomping back downstairs.

Twenty minutes later, Jeannie came back down again. "We're leaving, and your car is in the way. Would you mind moving it? I set up Maddie in front of the television upstairs, but I can bring her down here if you'd prefer. She's already taken her bath, so all you have to do is heat up dinner and then get her to bed."

"Just take it."

"Take what?"

Rodney counted to ten. "The car. I'm not moving it."

"Fine. I have the extra keys, and thank you. Now, do you want to come upstairs, or should I bring Madison down? I'm trying to be accommodating here, Mer. I know this isn't your favorite thing, but I'm desperate for some time alone with my husband. I just want a few hours."

"It doesn't matter. Do whatever you want. You will anyway."

She let out a frustrated sigh. "Fine. Be that way. Are you coming upstairs then?"

"Eventually." He was in the middle of an equation.

"Then I'll bring her down here."

He grunted something and got back to his research, numbers and equations dancing in his head.

It seemed like it was only seconds later when a small warm body careened into his leg. "HI Uncle Mer! Mommy said I get to come stay down here with you tonight!"

"No, you will not be staying down here with me. We'll be going upstairs. Where's your mother?"

"Her and Daddy left. It was funny, she was talking to you, and you just grunted like a monkey!"

"Yes yes. I'm sure it was very amusing to someone with your limited intelligence." He closed his laptop and ushered her out of the door. "Come on. Go upstairs and put on something to watch."

"Mommy says I have to make sure I stay where you can see me until it's time for me to go to bed, and then I have to stay in bed and not get up and walk around. Can I stay up until ten?"

"Nine."

"Awww!"

"If you complain it will be eight. Your choice."

She pouted, but didn't say anything else. "I'm hungry. When are we going to eat dinner? Can we have ice cream?"

"Did your mother leave food?" he asked as they walked upstairs.

"I don't know. But I want ice cream."

"After you eat dinner."

"What if Mommy didn't leave us anything? Then can we just eat a really big bowl of ice cream?"

"Maybe," Rodney said with a sigh as he walked into the kitchen, Madison on his heels.

"Yay!" She danced around his legs as he opened the fridge.

There were tofu-dogs and various salads in the fridge. All he had to do was heat up the pseudo protein and Madison would be all set. Of course, there was nothing for him.

She peeked around his shoulder. "Ice cream would be better, Uncle Mer. We should eat that instead."

"Later," he said with a sigh, silently agreeing with her.

"Those hot dogs taste funny. I like the ones Mommy gets me at the park better."

Rodney paused and then looked down at her. "What did you just say?"

She looked up at him. "Mommy sometimes buys me a hot dog from the nice man at the park. He has a stand that he pulls behind him, and he puts mustard on it for me. And he always has chocolate milk."

"Your mother feeds you beef hotdogs?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. She says it's our secret because Daddy would be disappointed if he knew she bought them for me. But that's okay because Daddy keeps secrets with me, too. He has a sparklie that he bought Mommy and showed me that he's giving her tonight. He said I couldn't tell her about it, because it was a surprise for their anniversary."

Rodney blinked twice. "Their anniversary?"

"Uh huh. Mommy said once a year her and Daddy get to go out just the two of them and celebrate."

"Why didn't she say it was her anniversary? Why did she have to be so god-damned annoying and demanding?" Rodney muttered to himself as he slammed the fridge door shut. "Do you want pizza?"

"And ice cream!" Madison danced around the kitchen.

"What do you want on your pizza?" Rodney asked as he headed for the phone across the room.

"Sprinkles!"

"No. That's for ice cream. I'm talking pizza. Pepperoni? Sausage? Mushrooms? Peppers?"

"Sprinkles!"

Rodney glared at her. "If you say that once again, you'll get nothing and go to bed now."

She pouted at him. "But that's what I want!"

"That's ice cream toppings and you are quickly trampling on the last nerve I have and you won't get ice cream for the foreseeable future. What toppings do you want on your pizza?"

She gave him a look that was so Jeannie, Rodney had to do a double take. "Cheese."

"That's a given. What else?"

"Just cheese. Lots of it. I like cheese."

Rodney sighed, but dialed the phone, ordering a large extra-cheese pizza and a side of garlic knots with sauce. Hopefully it wouldn't be stone cold when it was finally delivered by some pimply teenager. "Come on. Let's put on a movie."

"Yay! I wanna watch the Princesses!" She ran ahead of him into the living room.

"No. Absolutely not."

"But it's my favorite!" She whined at him.

"I don't care. Pick something else that I can watch with you without poking my eyes out. Remember, I can always send you to bed."

She started to sniffle.

"If you cry, you go to bed. Do you understand?"

She kept sniffling. "I...just...wanna...watch...princesses!"

"How about Princess Leia?"

She perked up. "Is she a new princess? I wanna be a princess when I grow up."

"She's a kick-ass princess. Fights bad guys and everything," Rodney said, heading for the DVD player. He knew Caleb was a closet sci-fi fan so there had to be Star Wars DVDs somewhere. If not, he had his downstairs.

"Ooooo, you said a bad word! Gotta put a nickel in the jar!"

Rodney waved her off as he dug around, finally unearthing the DVD. "So…are you ready for Princess Leia?"

"Yay!" She bounced to her usual spot on the floor in front of the TV.

Rodney got everything set up and hit play before dropping down on the couch. The opening titles began and he sighed in relief. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad.

Madison was completely engrossed in the movie until the doorbell rang. "Pizza!" She got up and ran to the door.

And sure enough, it was a pimply teenager who was standing there, pizza in hand. Rodney handed over more than enough to cover the food and tip, getting them set up once again in the living room—now with food.

Madison immediately got back into the movie, quietly munching through several slices of pizza at the same time.

This babysitting thing wasn't so bad. Toward the end of the movie, he wandered into the kitchen and prepared too bowls of ice cream—covered in sprinkles and chocolate syrup. He dropped one in front of Madison before sitting back down on the couch.

She squealed and gave him a big hug before setting on her ice cream with a vengeance.

As the final credits started rolling, Rodney eyed his niece. "So?"

She grinned. "I wanna be Princess Leia!"

"Want to watch another one?"

Her eyes got huge. "You'll let me stay up?"

"You didn't answer the question."

She nodded. "Uh huh. I wanna see more of Princess Leia kicking ass!"

Rodney chuckled. "And we won't mention to mom or dad about you using bad words," he said as he got up and switched the DVDs.

She grinned at him and climbed up onto the couch after he sat down, curling up next to him.

He was starting to doze off when the doorbell rang again. He jerked awake, eyes immediately going to the clock. It was just after ten. He left Madison on the couch, engrossed in the movie, and headed to the door.

When he opened it, he had to blink. Two uniformed men were standing in the doorway. "Meredith Rodney McKay?"

He blinked, his mind already beginning to quietly panic. "Yes. What's wrong?"

The officer speaking took off his hat. "May we come in?"

"No, you can't just come in. You can't just show up here and think you can come in. What happened? What's wrong? Where's my sister?"

The man took a deep breath. "I'm sorry to have to tell you this Mr. McKay. There's been an accident. Your sister and her husband didn't survive."

"It's Doctor McKay," Rodney said, immediately correcting him. "And what do you mean there was an accident? Caleb's a good driver—too cautious at times, but a good driver." But the words were starting to sink in, the panic was starting to build.

"I sure he was, sir. We're still investigating the scene, but it appears one of the tires blew out, causing him to lose control of the vehicle. The car swerved off the Interstate and into a tree going fast enough that it appears both passengers died on impact."

"No no no no," he said shaking his head. "That's just not possible. They have….they have a daughter…" He pointed back into the house, his hand shaking.

The officer reached out to steady him. "I know this is hard, sir. I'm so sorry we had to bring you this news."

"No, don't touch me," he said, jerking away. "Go back and check again. You got it wrong. It has to be wrong."

"I wish it was, sir. We will need you to come down to the hospital to fill out some paperwork and give a positive identification on the bodies, unfortunately."

"No, I won't because it's not true. It can't be true. They have a daughter, a family, and a life. It was their anniversary. They were just going out to dinner…"

It was like everything just came rushing at him all at once. All the arguments they had. The fights. The words they said. Everything he'd said and done. Darth Vader was talking in the background, the sound drifting in from the living room where Madison was watching Empire Strikes Back.

Madison. Oh god. Not this. Madison needed parents. A mother and a father. He was Madison's guardian now. There was no one else for her.

"No no no," he whispered, feeling like he couldn't breathe. "It can't be. No, please, take it back."

"Sir? I think you should sit down."

"Take it back!" he yelled, even as his legs suddenly gave out and he was on the floor. He knocked into the hall table on the way down and a vase tipped over the edge.

"Sir!" Hands were on him, and he heard Madison crying. "Who are you and what did you do to Uncle Mer?"

Everything at that point got a little fuzzy and the next thing he knew was that there were lots of people around and he was somewhere else.

He felt a small body pressed up against him, and vaguely realized it was Madison and she was crying.

But the whole thought of Jeannie and Caleb not coming back….and it was his car, his fault…just sent him over the edge once again.

The darkness where he wasn't thinking was best. Because once he started thinking…

It was best when he didn't think.

He imagined John at one point. Imagined what it would be like if he was there to hold him, care for him, comfort him. He could almost feel John's arms around him, rocking him and telling him it would be alright.

At one point he opened his eyes and he realized he was in the hospital, the stark white walls giving it away easily. He felt weird, soft, but nothing hurt so it was good. He didn't want to hurt anymore.

John was there—or maybe it was just a figment of his imagination. But the figment John talked to him quietly, touched him gently, and even fed him a little—not that he was hungry. He was nice, the figment John.

He even took them home, back to the house.

But Jeannie and Caleb weren't home. Jeannie would be excited to see John—even if it was only figment John. She loved John like a brother. Loved John more than she moved him.

The rest of the time was a big blur, of soft images and half-thoughts. But when Rodney woke up the next time, the springs from the fold-out couch in the living room digging into his back, Rodney knew.

John was really there. His mess of hair was in the bed with him and Madison was snuggled up close, protected in his arms.

John was here.

Caleb and Jeannie weren't coming home.

He stumbled to his feet and made it to the upstairs bathroom before losing what little food he had left in his stomach. He eventually managed to drag himself to the master bedroom, the picture of Jeannie and Caleb's wedding picture calling to him across the room.

He walked over, fingers ghosting over the picture encased in glass.

She was smiling in the picture. She looked happy.

A sob came, hard and fast, making him curl over. Gone. She was gone. She was gone and the last thing she probably thought of was that she was leaving her daughter with a brother she hated.

Why couldn't it have been him? It was his car, his tire. It was his fault. The accident should have happened to him. He should be the one who was dead, not her. God, not her.

It should have been him.

****


	3. Chapter Three

"Let me help you."

Those words John had spoken to him days ago still bounced around in his head. He'd made it through the funeral and the wake and everything he was supposed to do. The drugs kept everything soft and faraway.

It was nice in certain aspects, like he was a passenger in his own body. But he also knew that it wasn't right, wasn't supposed to be this way and at other times he would have been upset by how the drugs made him feel.

But now…now things were different.

He woke in his new bed, the one across from John's room. The drapes were still pulled tightly closed, but a sliver of light had crept in letting him know it was late morning—or early afternoon. He'd lost track of all time and he found he didn't care.

A light touch on his arm startled him, making him gasp.

"Hey, sorry. I didn't mean to startle you." John's face was smiling down at him.

Rodney let his heart settle, staying silent for a few minutes before responding, his words nearly silent. "Why are you here?"

John sat on the edge of the bed. "Checking on you. I also wanted to get you up and moving. We set up an appointment for you to talk to a grief counselor today."

"Why bother?" he asked, rolling onto his side away from John.

"Because you need it." John's hand rubbed his back. "I know how hard this is. This guy will help."

Rodney shook his, already feeling the tears forming and hating himself even more. "Nothing will help."

"Please? I really think you need this, buddy. He's here, so you don't even have to leave the house. Just come downstairs and sit and talk for a little while, about whatever you want to."

Rodney didn't answer, didn't respond, and John took things into his own hands—much like he had been doing anyway.

Rodney didn't resist as the other man got him to sit up and got him dressed, but he didn't help much either.

A pill was pressed into one hand and a glass of water into the other.

"I really hate to keep giving you these. I'm hoping the therapist will help you work through all of this without the drugs."

Rodney looked at the little pill in the middle of his hand for a minute or longer before putting it in his mouth and swallowing it down. It would make the edges less…hard, less sharp. Sometimes he could forget. He wanted to forget.

He shrugged and handed the glass back to John. "Doesn't matter."

"It does to me."

He shrugged again, not sure how or why he was having the conversation in the first place.

John took his arm and led him through the halls, first to the dining room where the other man made him eat a bit, then into one of the parlors, where someone Rodney didn't know was waiting for them. "Dr. Hendricks? This is Rodney."

The doctor said something—what Rodney had no idea since he'd stopped listening as soon as he walked in the door. John settled him in a chair and closed the door behind him when he left.

"Rodney." The man touched his arm. "Are you with me?"

Rodney shook himself, blinking a few times at the face that was hovering over him. "What?"

"Hmm, I'm thinking the first thing we need to do is change your medications. A little bit of distance is fine, but this is a bit too strong."

"'m fine," he said quietly, eyes focused somewhere in the middle of the room.

"No, you're numb. There's not a whole lot we can do right now, so why don't you just talk? Say whatever comes to mind."

He shook his head a few minutes later and offered a shrug. "Doesn't matter."

"You don't have to say anything in particular, or anything at all."

"Good…" Rodney nodded. "That's…good."

The doctor let the room lapse into silence.

The light was pretty, Rodney realized at some point. He could see dust motes hanging in the air in the beam of light from the window. It was…nice.

He was sad when someone?—John?—led him into another room. But this one had a window. It was pretty outside.

He ate when he was given food. Moved when he was persuaded to move.

The next morning he woke up again to the light touch of a hand on his arm. Things this morning were louder, harder.

"Hey." John smiled down at him again. "Time to get up, buddy."

"What?" he croaked out.

"Time to get up and get moving. I have breakfast ready for you, and Dr. Hendricks is downstairs when you're ready."

He felt weird. "Leave me alone."

"Sorry, buddy. You need this."

John pulled him upright, and pushed the blankets away—even as he tried to shove John away. "Leave me alone." God. It was like everything was bright and hard and sharp.

"Katie made you a nice breakfast, and there's coffee."

"I don't care," he said, realizing he sounded like a petulant five-year-old. When the expected pills and glass didn't appear, he looked up at John who was standing over him, his hands on his hips.

"Doctor Hendricks has cut the medications the hospital gave you. They were keeping you too zombie-like. Instead, you're going to come with me."

"Nononononono, he can't do that." Rodney felt the vague sense of panic. He didn't want to feel. He liked not feeling, not thinking.

John sat next to him on the bed and put an arm around his shoulder. "I know. But you need to grieve, buddy. You need to work through it, not insulate yourself from it. The longer you avoid it, the harder it will be."

"What's there to say? It was my fault," he said, pushing himself away from John and taking to his unsteady feet. He managed to take two steps in the direction of the ensuite bathroom before John was at his side, taking his elbow.

"It wasn't your fault, Rodney. You didn't cause the accident."

"You don't know that, don't know anything," he said shaking his head. He let John help him to the bathroom, steadying him when he faltered. "Just give me the damn pills."

"I can't do that. But I can give you what you really need, whether you realize it or not. You've trusted me with your life, trust me now to get you through this."

John left him to shower and clean himself up but had parked himself outside the bathroom door. There were clothes waiting on the bed when Rodney finally came back out, a towel around his waist. Rodney frowned at John as soon as he spotted him. "Don't you have something better to do?"

"No. You're my best friend. You need me, and that's more important to me than anything else."

Rodney snorted, but didn't comment. He pulled on his clothes and headed downstairs with John. He played with his breakfast more than ate it and then he was led into the library where the head shrink was waiting.

Hendricks stood up as they walked in and shook Rodney's hand. "Doctor McKay, it's good to see you this morning. Have a seat."

Rodney glanced over his shoulder to the closing door, trying to judge if he was actually able to make a run for it.

John had slipped out and already closed the door before he could move. Drat.

Hendricks smiled. "Please, have a seat. I promise I won't bite."

Rodney snorted. "Right."

"I'm guessing you know why I'm here, but to be sure, my purpose is to help you work through your grief. I'm not going to tell you not to feel it, or that it's wrong. I won't tell you to stop grieving. Rather, I want to help you find ways to manage your grief."

Rodney dropped into the chair. "Then give me the damn pills and we'll be fine."

"The pills were a necessary evil to get over the initial shock. However, they were eliminating your ability to feel anything at all. I know you think now that's a positive. But I've been helping people with grief for almost twenty years now, and I can tell you that not once has ignoring it worked. It only makes it that much worse when your feelings do finally break through."

"I don't need your help."

"If, after a few sessions, you still feel that way, then you won't have to see me again. All I ask is that you give me three sessions where you honestly allow me to help, talk to me, and don't write me off. After that, it's our choice as to whether you see me again or not."

"And if I choose not to talk to you at all will you just go away before we even start this dance?"

"I'm afraid not. We'll continue to meet, and you can take as many sessions as you'd like to decide to talk to me. But I won't disappear until you've had three real sessions with me."

"Fine," Rodney said, climbing to his feet. "Hope you enjoyed the ride to the house." He walked out, letting the door bang against the doorstop as he headed back upstairs to his room.

They played this game for several days.

John would rouse him in the morning, demand that he get himself up and ready before taking him downstairs for breakfast. Rodney spent thirty minutes looking at everything in the room except the doctor, before heading back upstairs where he took the rest of his meals during the day.

Without the drugs and with all this time on his hands—and no computer—gave him far too much time to think, to go over everything in his head. Over and over and over again.

Somewhere around the week mark, something just…gave inside of him. Anger and guilt spilled out one afternoon and most of the objects that weren't too heavy ended up sailing through the air. He vaguely remembered Simon trying to calm him and stop him—ducking when something headed his way.

But it was finally John who tackled him to the ground and held him as he sobbed. Hendricks showed up at some point later.

John surprisingly stayed this time, his arms around Rodney as Hendricks sat on the floor across from them. "It's okay to be angry. To feel guilty. To feel pain. It's all part of the grieving process."

"It should have been me," Rodney said quietly, the words wrenched from inside.

"Why do you believe you deserved to die?"

"Meyers wanted me gone because of what I'd done to him. It was my fault. She had a life, a child. She was happy." The guilt welled up again.

"And if it was Meyers who caused the accident, and Meyers who wanted to cause harm, why do you take on the responsibility for his actions?"

"It was my fault, my fault."

"Tell me why you think it was your fault when it was someone else's decisions that led to the accident."

"My fault, my fault, my fault." Rodney covered his face with his hands.

John held him and rocked him. "It wasn't your fault, buddy."

They didn't get much further that night.

Hendricks gave him something to help calm him—something much milder than before—but it made him sleepy. Once his disaster of a room was cleaned and straightened, John pressed him into the bed and stayed with him until he slept.

He woke up the next morning alone, his eyes roaming the now bare room. Embarrassment was high on his list of emotions today.

John came in a few minutes after he woke up, smiling cautiously at him. "Hey, how are you feeling?"

Rodney glanced up, but quickly looked away, unable to look John in the eyes. "Stupid."

"You're not stupid." John sat down on the bed. "This isn't easy, and I wish I could make it all go away. You're allowed to work through it. No one thinks any less of you."

Rodney snorted as he scooted into a seated position, pressing his back against the headboard. "I made a mess."

"We cleaned up a lot of it yesterday, and while you're downstairs, the rest will be taken care of."

Rodney nodded. He'd made of mess of more than just this room, though. He wasn't sure Windex and an interior designer could take care of the mess he'd made of his life and his sister's life.

John put an arm around him. "You're not alone, buddy. We'll get you through this."

"You're not giving me much of a choice."

"I'm not letting you give up. Jeannie wouldn't have wanted you to just stop living. She would want you to grieve, then move on. Madison is going to need her Uncle. She's seeing a counselor who specializes in children, and we have her in school here for now. But I don't know if you know that she comes in and makes sure you're okay every night before bed. It would destroy her to lose you, too."

"She's better off without me."

"No, she loves you and needs you."

Rodney shook his head, his eyes fixed on his hands in his lap. "No. She's better off without me."

John sighed. "I can't make you feel different, but I can tell you she loves you. Come downstairs with me and meet with Doctor Hendricks. Let him help you."

"I need to shower."

"Okay. I'll wait here for you."

"Don't you have other things to do besides babysit me?"

"This isn't babysitting, it's helping the only way I know how. Scarlett is keeping on top of things, and anything that absolutely needs my attention, she's making sure I take care of in the afternoons."

"I don't need you to babysit me. It's bad enough that I'm here."

John shook his head. "That's not what I'm doing. I'm your friend, and I want to help."

"And now you're using your 'placate the crazy natives' voice," Rodney said, climbing out of the bed and steadying himself on the bedside table.

"Go shower, and then we can head downstairs for breakfast."

"Fine," Rodney said, moving carefully to the shower, trying not to catalog where all the breakables used to be.

He took his time, but when he finally emerged from the bathroom, John was still there waiting patiently.

"You didn't have to wait," he said as he pulled on his clothes.

"I wanted to."

Rodney didn't comment any further, but walked downstairs with John. He ate enough to keep him from having issues with his blood sugar before he was escorted into the library once again.

Hendricks was there in his usual seat. "Good morning, Rodney."

He grunted, but fell into the chair without being asked.

John slipped out, and Hendricks gave him a small smile. "So today I'd like to talk about why you feel the accident was your fault."

"Because it was," Rodney said, rubbing at his chest as a now-familiar ache bloomed.

"Tell me why you feel that way."

"Because I know it's true."

"Explain it to me."

Rodney sighed and looked away, focusing on the window and the trees he could see outside. The leaves were golden and red, the branches thinning out as winter approached.

At least Hendricks seemed content to give him as much time as he needed.

But eventually Rodney talked. It started slowly, in dips and drabs, about what he'd seen, about what he knew, about what he'd done. He told him about every single time something had happened to his car, right up until that last accident.

Hendricks nodded, letting him talk, not prompting him when he trailed off. Finally, when Rodney was done, he leaned forward. "I can see why you feel the burden of guilt, but it was not your fault. You addressed every problem that came up, and you were fighting to help young women who needed you. Survivors often feel guilt, and many times blame themselves. However, I'd like you to try something. I know I can't just wave a wand and make you cease feeling the way you do. But I'd like you to go and spend an hour walking outside today. While you walk, I want you to make a conscious effort not to think about anything related to guilt or the accident. Think about the trees. Think about your science, think about anything you want, but try to direct your mind out of the spinning wheel it's caught in now. Part of the problem is that you're so overwhelmed by everything you can't absorb it all. If you can break that cycle, we can start to separate individual issues and deal with them one at a time, instead of trying to handle it all at once."

"Walking?" Rodney asked, blinking up at him in surprise.

Hendricks nodded. "Often, a physical activity will help with mental turmoil. It will give you an anchor to help you redirect your thoughts. If you find you can't turn your mind to something else, count your steps, or clouds, or something else around you."

"And if still gets to be too much?"

"At first, it will. As I said, I can't wave a magic wand. I can, however, help you work through the pain, and give you the tools to help yourself. My suggestion is to keep walking. This area is protected with quite a few paths, and I think, if nothing else, for now the activity will help you sleep better since your body will be physically tired in addition to mentally. Once you start feeling more rested, you'll find it gets easier to break down your emotions and deal with them individually, as well. Exhaustion makes everything seem more difficult to handle."

Rodney tried not to roll his eyes, but at this point he was almost ready to try anything. "What else?"

"Set a routine. Include the walk, and then something you enjoy and is mentally consuming. We'll continue to meet in the morning, and that will give you the break you need to absorb what we talk about without it getting overwhelming again."

Rodney nodded, already feeling exhausted from today's session.

"Go ahead and just walk today. Think about what you want your routine to be, and then come back and set it up. Tomorrow you'll start following it."

"That's it?"

"Yes. That's it." Hendricks smiled.

Rodney nodded and Hendricks gestured to the door, letting him go. Rodney found his coat and headed outside, the feeling of wind on his face weird. It felt like he'd been inside and wrapped in a cocoon for years.

He walked until his feet started hurting and his stomach was growling. There was a small room near his bedroom he could use as an office—if he could find his computer equipment.

Katie was surprised to see him when he wandered into the kitchen, head ducked in embarrassment, but she fluttered around him and got him a bowl of soup and a sandwich to eat. When he left the kitchen he almost felt normal—or at least as normal as he was allowed to feel these days.

Simon was helpful, as usual, and brought all his equipment into the room and helped him set it up. It would do for now. He just hoped John didn't mind he was taking over another room in his house.

He ended up eating dinner in his bedroom. The day had exhausted him and he couldn't face more people again. A small sleeping pill after dinner pulled him down into a dreamless sleep.

The next day he started his routine and much to his surprise, Hendricks had been right. It helped more than he thought it would. He wasn't getting a lot done on his research, but it was better than nothing.

The routine quickly became his life.

Every day was exactly the same, and right now, that was what he needed.

Even the afternoon walks had been good. He didn't go far, but he walked around the property, taking note on how things changed over the days and weeks. The quiet of nature helped to calm his mind, ease some of the pain.

He always carried his phone—just in case—but no one ever bothered him when he was outside walking. It was like they knew to leave him alone. Maybe Hendricks told them all to give him a wide berth. Rodney wouldn't be surprised.

When his phone rang one afternoon during his walks with a blocked number, he was more than a little startled. He could feel his pulse picking up. Something had to be wrong.

"Yes, what? What happened?" he asked as soon as he picked up.

"Meredith?"

Rodney paused. Even with just the one word, something in the back of his head clicked over. "Yes?"

The man grunted. "This is your Father."

Within the space of a heartbeat, everything flashed back into place. The things he'd done to him. The things he'd said. How he'd been blacklisted and hated. "What the hell do you want? And how did you get this number?"

"I heard Jeannie died. When's the will reading?"

"You…what?"

"Brain still not functioning right, eh? All that fucking must have damaged your brain cells. When are they reading the will? I want to know what Jeannie left behind."

Rodney shook himself, feeling his blood pressure rising. "Fuck you! You have no right, no right to call and ask me that."

"I have every right. You both came from my DNA."

"No, you have no rights. Not anymore. Not when you only call to ask for money. Screw you and don't you ever call me again."

"I want what's mine."

"Nothing. Nothing is yours. Not anymore."

"Bullshit."

"She didn't leave you anything. Not a penny. Nothing. She hated you for what you did to us."

"I didn't do squat to you. You did it all to yourselves. You were just too stupid to realize that. Blaming others for your shortcomings is an ugly trait, Meredith."

"My name is Rodney and you did everything you could to make sure I would never get a job in science because you found me fucking a guy. You didn't want your precious reputation sullied by your faggot son."

"And if you hadn't been fucking around, none of that would have happened. Cause and effect, Meredith."

"I had been for years before you walked in on me and you never knew any better. It doesn't matter who you fuck, only if you could do the job, but you wouldn't hear me. You made up your mind and threw me away. Well, fuck you. I don't need you and Jeannie didn't need you either. Don't ever call me again."

Rodney pulled the phone away from his ear and hit "end call", holding back the urge to throw his phone into the dense underbrush.

The phone rang a few seconds later, with the same blocked caller id showing.

He hung up on the call.

Over the next 15 minutes, his father kept trying to call through, and Rodney kept hanging up without answering.

After that, Rodney turned his voicemail off and turned the phone off. He didn't want to hear from his father ever again.

How dare the man call and accuse him in one breath and ask for money in the next. It was like he had no shame.

Rodney ended up sitting on a cold stone bench, the phone clutched in his hands as he tried to breathe, tried to get his anger under control.

He was pissed that even after all this time, that... man could still have this effect.

He hated….hated himself.

He stayed outside until the chill settled in his bones and then he headed inside, grabbing a travel mug of decaf coffee from Katie. He didn't even have to ask for it. She just pointed to the steaming cup when he crept inside, offering a smile.

It was nice to have someone watching out for him.

He told John about the call a few days and surprised himself when he asked John to have the number changed a few days after that. His father kept calling and Rodney just didn't want to deal with him anymore. He wanted nothing to do with him.

After that, Rodney felt himself settling in, getting used to the routine and the pace of the place. He'd see Madison every now and then and the sight of her just hit him in the gut every time. She was Jeannie and it just reminded him of everything he'd lost.

But he also knew he needed to start taking responsibility for himself and for his niece. He was her guardian, not John. Hendricks had told him that much already, but he wasn't pushing it. But Rodney knew it was true and it would need to happen sooner or later.

He started coming down when she was working on her homework, simply watching and listening, helping when she got stuck. The looks she threw at him, though, were all Jeannie—all mad Jeannie—and it hurt even more coming from her.

Thanksgiving was a relatively quiet affair—even with everyone streaming into the house and then Christmas was right around the corner. But when his sister's estate was finally settled, Rodney simply refused to go back to the house. He couldn't do it. The pain and the guilt were still too close.

John came in one afternoon and sat down across from him, after the paperwork for the house and Jeannie and Caleb's estate had all been finalized. "Hey. How are you doing?"

Rodney offered a silent shrug. "Relieved in a way."

John squeezed his knee. "Someone is going to have to go up and make sure the house is packed up and shipped and stored correctly. If you don't feel up to it, I can go for you."

"I…" He took a breath. "I can't."

John nodded. "I figured. Give me power of attorney, and I'll take care of it. I'll have everything packed and shipped down here, stored in our warehouse. That way, when you're ready to go through it, you can. And it will be there for Maddie when she's ready, too."

"Okay. Just…get me the paperwork and I'll sign it. And I know I need to think about getting a new car."

"I'll have the lawyers draw something up. And you can take any of the cars in the garage for now if you want to go out. When you're ready to buy, let me know and I'll set up an appointment with the dealership."

"I need my own," Rodney said, the words sounding a little harsh to his own ears. "It's just…you're already doing so much for me. I need to start taking care of things again myself."

John nodded. "That's fine. Until you have one though, feel free to borrow any of the cars we have here. Simon can get you the keys. That way you're not trapped here."

"There's really nowhere for me to go and it's not exactly ideal weather outside."

John shrugged. "I know. But the option is there if something comes up."

"I'll just…get myself a car. I need one anyway. I can't rely on you for everything."

"I'm not saying you should. But until you get a car, feel free to use one of the ones we have here. That's all."

"I know, it's just…" he sighed quietly. "I will."

John squeezed his knee again. "I'll have the paperwork for you to sign tomorrow, and we can get that done so you can move on."

Rodney nodded. "It won't be over for a long time, though. They're still investigating everything."

"I know. And we'll be here standing beside you for all of it. But at the same time, each piece you can close out will make it a little easier to breathe moving forward."

"So Hendricks claims," Rodney said with a roll of his eyes.

John chuckled. "He's a smart guy."

"I guess," he grumbled, hating to admit that the head shrinker might actually be right about something.

John smiled and stood up. "One day at a time. That's all you can do, buddy."

"Yeah, yeah."

John wandered out, leaving him alone with his thoughts again.

Sure enough, the paperwork appeared the next day and he signed off on it, letting John take care of the house and everything else. A week later and John was headed to Canada for him, doing what he couldn't.

Rodney decided it was probably a good idea to at least try to spend more time with Madison. Now was as good a time as ever.

He found her in her room, playing with her dolls—the ones John had packed for her when they'd left months ago and some that she'd gotten since they'd been here.

"Hey, there."

She looked up and glared at him. "Go away."

"I just wanted to see how you were doing."

"You went away. Now I don't want to talk to you."

"I didn't go anywhere. I've even helped you with your homework."

She huffed—a very Jeannie noise and it pierced his heart. "You wouldn't talk to me, or come meet my horsie or play dolls or eat pizza or anything."

"I couldn't."

"You left me." The accusation in her eyes was painful. "Mommy and Daddy left me, and then you left me. I don't need anybody."

He closed his eyes as the pain washed over him. She was right. He had left her. "I didn't mean to."

She was quiet for a minute. "Why did everyone leave? Was I a bad girl?"

"No, no you weren't. Things just…happen."

"Well I don't like them. So there."

"Madison," Rodney said with a sigh, stepping into the room.

"No! You're not allowed to come in. Only girls are allowed."

"But you let John in here yesterday."

She shook her head. "No."

Behind him, someone cleared her throat.

Rodney turned, finding Scarlett standing behind him. "What? You're allowed in?"

She smiled. "I'm a girl, so yes. But that's not why I'm here. I saw you come in, and I thought I'd see if you wanted to talk to her therapist, Carolyn Yeggers. She's here, and I can bring Maddie down in a few minutes if you'd like to talk to Carolyn about her progress so far."

Rodney shrugged, looking back over his shoulder at his still-scowling niece. "Fine."

He walked down the hall to another small sitting room, where a blond woman was waiting. "Hello. You must be Doctor McKay. I'm Carolyn."

"Rodney," he said with a nod as he sat.

She nodded. "I'm glad I finally get to meet you. Madison talks about you quite a bit."

"Huh. I'm surprised. I'm guessing none of it is good."

She smiled. "Actually, most of it is good. I did want to talk to you though. Madison has a lot of anger right now, and so her emotions are a bit volatile. Don't be surprised if she's loving and affectionate one moment, and acting out the next."

Rodney snorted. "I'm guessing if she's anything like her mother, I'll only get the acting up part of that. Especially if her recent behavior is anything to go by."

"I can understand your frustration. Madison is making progress, but it will take time. I encourage you to spend as much time with her as you can. She talks about you and watching movies, and I believe loves you greatly. However, you're also the safest target for her anger, so don't be surprised if you bear the brunt of it."

"I'll keep that in mind."

She smiled. "It will take time but she's actually doing quite well, considering."

"So everyone's said. Kids…" he said with a shrug.

She nodded. "Kids have an amazing ability to adapt, but she'll probably need someone to talk to on and off throughout her childhood."

"And that would be you."

"Until she's older. I specialize in children under twelve, so once she gets a bit older, if I'm still with her, I'll start to transition her to someone else."

"Won't she be all talked out by twelve? There's only so many times you can go over this kind of thing."

"That's why I said on and off. My guess is that I'll continue to see her regularly for another 6-8 months. After that, it will be on a more infrequent basis, as she needs me. However, in most children, once they hit puberty, many old issues crop back up. Which is why she may need the help again when she gets a bit older."

"Puberty," Rodney said, rubbing a hand over his face. "Now that's something I want nothing to do with."

"It's not something you'll need to think about for a while yet."

"You're the one who brought it up!"

"Well, I just wanted to let you know that just because she works through it now, she might need to do it all over again when she's a bit older. Especially as she becomes a woman, and her mother won't be there to help her through it. But on the other hand, strong female role models will help, and she's a very intelligent young woman, so she might not need any additional counseling at all."

Rodney snorted.

She smiled. "But while you should keep it in mind, it's not really important right now. For the moment, just try to spend time with her when you can, and don't be discouraged by the mood swings."

"Right."

"She'll likely show you a great deal of affection one moment, then throw a temper tantrum the next. Just try to be patient, and recognize it as the way she's expressing her grief."

Rodney nodded. "Anything else I need to worry about like a knife in the back or objects hurtling toward my head?"

She shook her head. "No, her anger will probably come out as yelling, tantrums, and accusations."

"For now."

"True. I don't see her getting physically violent, though. That's part of my job, to give her other ways to deal with her emotions that are more productive."

Rodney snorted again. "Yeah, I know. I've dealt with shrinks for most of my life."

"Good. I should be meeting with her shortly, but please, feel free to contact me if you ever have any questions. I would love to do some joint sessions with you, as well, if you were willing."

"I'm doubtful that would be very helpful," Rodney said, getting to his feet. "I'll have someone send Madison down."

"Thank you."

Rodney caught Simon in the hall and had him go up and get Madison for her appointment as he headed into the television room downstairs. Without John in the house it was almost empty feeling.

It was funny, he didn't see him all the time, or spend every waking moment with him, but the house just... felt different with the other man gone.

Maybe he should do something, go somewhere. He felt listless and a little at odds with himself. Maybe he really did need to get out more, do something.

Scarlett found him there an hour later. "Oh good, you're not busy. Come with me."

"What? Why?"

"I have a job for you." She started walking out, obviously expecting him to follow.

Rodney stayed in the big comfy chair and waited for her to come back. She should know better than to just order him to do something.

She came back in a few minutes later and glared at him. "You can either mope in here and be bored, or come design a system for me and hack it into all the cell phones on the property. Your choice."

She walked back out again.

He grumbled to himself for several minutes before climbing to his feet and stomping down to her office. "What are you trying to do?"

She pointed at a laptop already set up at one of her spare desks. "I took apart the tracking program you put on John's phone, and it's good, but I'd like to take it a step further. I'd like a system that can run on everyone's phones since we all have them anyway. They need to send back location information and identify who belongs to which phones. Also, it needs to have a permission system, so I can have full access, but I can give some of the house staff specific permissions to allow them to do their jobs better."

"I'm surprised you haven't asked me to put chips in everybody."

She gave him a look. "I need to be able to check it from my computer, or from a mobile app on my phone when I'm not in the office. It should have several layers so it's not dependent on a phone signal or internet access alone, and it needs to be easy enough to install on new phones as we get them. Plus the ability to add upgrades and features in the future is a must."

"That's not hard to do. You could do that with your eyes closed. Hell, I think you did that when we worked together years ago with much older cell phones. What do you need me for?"

"One: I'm working on other things and don't have time to do it. And Two: You need something to do."

He narrowed his eyes at her. "Did Sheppard put you up to this?"

"He does not, and cannot know we're doing it. He puts up with a certain amount of tracking from you, but he would have a cow if he knew I was implementing it estate-wide."

Rodney snorted. "You might be surprised at what he'd put up with." He sighed. "I don't need anything to do."

"Yes, you do. You've been wandering the halls like a sad little ghost. You're allowed to grieve, but now it's time to start working again. So get to work. I want a draft of the new program to start debugging by the end of the week. I want a full implementation throughout the estate, including access for the staff, by the end of the month."

"Excuse me?" he asked, his back straightening. "You need to remember who hired you and watch your tone. I don't take orders from you."

"I don't work for you, I work for John." She rolled her eyes. "And stop trying to use that as an excuse to keep pulling away from the world. You have people who care about you, and you're trying to shut them out so you don't get hurt. It's time to get over yourself and start living again. No one else wants to put it like that because they're all afraid of hurting your feelings, so I decided it was time to take matters into my own hands."

"You work for Sheppard," he said, feeling the anger rise. "And you have no right, absolutely no right to tell me how I should feel or what I should be doing! I'm the one who lost my family—my sister. I'm the one who's saddled with a niece who won't talk to me, who hates me and wants nothing to do with me!"

She grinned at him. "See, there's the fire I knew you still had. You just needed to get a little riled up to remember how it feels to be alive again."

"Do you think this is just a game?"

"No," she shook her head. "But honestly McKay, you've been walking around the house for months now barely existing. Barely paying attention to anything or anyone. I get that you're grieving, that's fine. But you have to start pushing yourself out of the little sheltered box you've created around your emotions."

"Maybe I don't want to. Did that ever occur to you?"

"Of course you don't. You think you're happy with so much padding around yourself that you can't feel anything. But is that really what you want at the end of the day? To feel nothing for anything or anyone? Or to wake up one day ready to feel, only to realize you've alienated everyone you care about by pushing them away one too many times?"

Rodney closed his eyes and sighed, shaking his head. The one thing he wanted he couldn't have. She just didn't understand. "Maybe I'm tired of feeling everything, of always losing." He took a breath and opened his eyes, looking at her. "Do whatever you want with the phones and the tracking system. I'm not getting involved with it. If you have a problem with it, take it up with Sheppard."

He turned on his heel and headed out the door.

"The more you run away, the easier it gets to run. But the problem is that once you start running, it's hard to stop. You have to decide if you want to spend the rest of your life pursuing happiness, or running away from it."

"Happiness isn't for everyone, Scarlett, and especially not for me." He left, not letting her reply.

He headed to the television room and poured himself a large helping of vodka before heading up to his room. He drank the liquid down quickly, easily, feeling it burn as it traveled through his body.

He spent the next hour surfing the web of the local car dealerships and ended up buying a new Prius that night.

If he wasn't welcome to spend time around the house because it was bothering people, he'd start exploring. There was nothing for him here, really. Just John and he was straight and taken.

If John was surprised to see the car in the garage when he got back, he didn't say anything. And after the present—the fully tricked out completely amazing lab—John got him for Christmas, he didn't want to seem ungrateful so he didn't start exploring until January was well underway.

In mid-January, Scarlett wandered into his lab. "Hey."

"Hi," he said cautiously, saving the research he was working on. They'd been tip-toeing around each other since December and this was the first time she'd approached him.

She sighed. "Look, I know I came on a little strong that day. You know I say what I think, and I usually don't give a rat's ass about what anyone else thinks about it. But I feel bad that I pushed you so hard. So, I'm sorry."

He blinked at her, letting her stand there for a few minutes before speaking. "You did push and you did step over the line."

"Yeah, well. I'm good at that. So... sorry." She kicked at the rug.

"And it's been…pointed out to me by one annoying shrink that I may have…over-reacted as well."

She gave him a small smile. "So, as a peace offering, I'd like to take you to meet some people I used to hang out with. I don't go down there much anymore, but they're all science geeks who get together about once a week or so to talk shop. I think you'd like them."

Rodney raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure you're not trying to get me killed or set me up for something?"

She rolled her eyes. "No. I just figured it was the least I could do. I think you'd like them, and the conversations get way technical. That's why I stopped going."

"You know these people?"

She nodded. "Mostly people from the college, but they're the super-smart set. They love nothing better than to pick the most obscure scientific theory they can find and spend the whole night debating it."

"They do this regularly?" Rodney asked, getting interested despite himself. He hadn't had any real science discussions since Atlantis. And this kind of thing sounded like what he used to do in college.

"Yeah. When I was going, it was once a week, sometimes more. I haven't been since I started working here, but they had been doing it for years, so I can't imagine they've stopped now. Even as some of them graduate and become scientists or professors or whatever, they all make a point of going back as often as they can."

"I might be too old for them, though," Rodney said, trying not to get excited. There were certain things about college he loved—sex being one of them. This might give him a chance to meet someone who was a little more open-minded.

"There's a huge range of ages. One of the founders of the group is a crusty old guy in like his 80s who still shows up every now and then to, as he puts it, keep the whipper snapers in line."

Rodney chuckled. "I'm sure he's interesting."

She smiled. "They meet around six every night, and it's about a 45 minute drive. Want me to take you down there tonight and introduce you?"

"I'd have to tell Katie I won't be here for dinner."

"I can let her know. We'd need to leave in about an hour, so you have some time."

"Are you sure you want to do this for me?"

"Of course. I like you, McKay. And I hate that I pushed you away with one pissy afternoon. This is the least I can do to make it up to you."

"Well, there's always coffee and chocolate."

"They make some of the best coffee and pastries at the cafe where they all meet. It's one of the reasons they chose it as the meeting spot."

"Really?" Okay. This was almost too good to be true.

She grinned. "Get ready, and meet me in the garage at five. I'll let everyone who needs to know where we'll be."

"What should I wear?" he asked, calling after her as she headed out.

"Whatever you want. There's no dress code or anything."

"Casual? Dressy?" He stepped into the hallway.

"Jeans or khakis and a polo is what most of them wear."

"Okay, okay," he nodded, trying to think what he had that would be appropriate. "So at five?"

"Yup. I'll meet you downstairs."

Rodney headed up to his room and tore through his closet, trying to find something casual and dressy. He wanted to make a good impression. Who knows. There might be sex involved at some point down the line.

Scarlett was waiting for him where she said she would be, and the drive to the cafe seemed to take forever. He was a bundle of nerves by the time they arrived.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" he asked for the thirtieth time, rubbing his sweaty hands on his pants as they pulled up to the coffee shop. Scarlett eased her car into a spot a few doors down.

"Of course it is. You'll love it. Now come on and stop worrying."

"But this isn't something I've done in a long time. I'm out of practice and out of the loop. What if they are…cooler than me?"

She rolled her eyes and dragged him inside. She immediately took him to a table of people of various ages near the back. "Hi guys! I know I haven't been around in a while, but I wanted to bring a new friend to meet you."

"Hi," he said with a weird half-wave, knowing he had to look as dorky as he felt.

A chorus of enthusiastic hellos echoed around the table. One younger blond girl pulled him into a chair. "I'm Amy! Nice to meet you!"

"Ah…hi. I'm Rodney."

Everyone went around the table and introduced themselves. One man, who looked about Rodney's age, scooted closer. "I'm Gordon."

"Hi," Rodney said with a small, nervous smile. Gordon reminded him of John—dark, tall, thin. "So…what do you do?"

"I teach up at the college." Gordon scooted a bit closer. "How about you?"

"Scientist. I used to teach at a college outside of Toronto. Before that I was working for the US government on classified projects."

Gordon hummed. "Very interesting. You'll be a good addition to our little group Rodney."

"I…ah, guess we'll see. This is my first time here, you now…discussing stuff."

Gordon just hummed again, and gave Rodney a very obvious once over. Amy rolled her eyes. "Don't mind him. If you like guys, he's a sure thing, if not, feel free to smack him around."

"I…ah…yeah, that's not a problem," he said, glancing at Amy.

"So." One of the other girls whose name he hadn't caught, grabbed everyone's attention. "In honor of Rodney joining us, I want to start the evening by debating Classified projects: necessary evil or just evil."

"They're not that bad," Rodney protested, shifting in his chair.

That started a debate with about half the group joining Rodney in defending them, while the rest argued against it. Before he knew it, Scarlett was tugging on his arm. "Okay, if we don't get going soon, we risk me falling asleep at the wheel."

"What why?" he asked, looking at her strange. "It's early."

"It's nearly two in the morning." She laughed. "I'm glad you're having fun, but some of us have to work tomorrow. And he's welcome to come back, right guys?"

He got a variety of affirmative comments from everyone in the group—especially Gordon.

"I'll walk you two out to your car." Gordon stood up with them.

"I…ah I'm sure Scarlett and I can find our way. It's not far," he said, even as Gordon stuck to his side as they headed to the door.

"I don't mind." Gordon was standing very close, and brushed Rodney's back with his hand. "We're meeting again next week, same time and place. I hope we can expect you?"

"Ah, yeah, probably, if I can find time to get away." Rodney shifted away from him.

"I'll be looking forward to it. Here's my contact information. Feel free to call. Anytime."

Rodney took the card from Gordon's hand, looking down at it for a long moment. "Ah, yeah. I don't have a card or anything…"

"That's okay. I'll get it next time." Gordon leaned in close to shake his hand. "I'll be looking forward to seeing you again."

"Ah…yeah, me, too," Rodney said, watching him walk away toward the other end of the block. Rodney vaguely realized Gordon had a nice ass.

Scarlett laughed as they got in the car. "Dang, he's totally hot for you."

"He is?"

"Oh yeah. He would have gotten naked for you right here if you had asked."

Rodney glanced over his shoulder toward where Gordon had disappeared. "No. I don't think so. He was just friendly."

"Trust me, that wasn't friendly. That was 'I want to have wild sex with you'."

"No it wasn't. He just met me."

"And his eyes lit up like a kid at Christmas. He wants you, McKay."

Rodney rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, I am an attractive man."

She chuckled. "You are, so stop doubting it."

Rodney smiled at her. "You know, that was kind of fun."

"I'm glad you enjoyed it. I told you, they're a good group."

"I used to do this kind of thing when I was in college. Although, it involved a whole lot more alcohol."

"Yeah, these days, coffee seems to be the drug of choice."

"Although someone had some weed. I could smell it. It never did much for me, even in college. Although that one time I think I went through like three bags of Bugles."

She shook her head. "So now you know when and where it is. It's open invitation, so whenever you want to drop in, do it."

"You mean you're not going to go?"

"I still will occasionally, but not every week."

Rodney bounced his leg as Scarlett drove them home, energy still running through his body. It had been a rush. He hadn't argued like that and really got his brain going since he worked with Zelenka.

When they got home, he was actually inspired enough to go log on to his laptop. He was surprised to see an email from Ashley waiting for him.

He had actually ignored all of her emails up to this point. She was at MIT. She didn't need him anymore. Tonight, though, he opened it up and read through it.

****

From: Ashley [mailto:Ashley.tinnsdale@mit.edu]  
Sent: Wednesday, January 9, 2008 02:35 PM   
To: M. Rodney McKay [mailto:rodneymckayphdphd@gmail.com]

Subject: Are you alive?

So, I'm about ready to send a posse down. Please, Professor, please let us know you're okay. We've all followed the news on what happened, and we know you're in the States now, but… we're all really worried about you. Please let us know you're okay.

-Ashley

****

From: M. Rodney McKay [mailto:rodneymckayphdphd@gmail.com]  
Sent: Thursday, January 10, 2008 02:35 AM   
To: Ashley [mailto:Ashley.tinnsdale@mit.edu]  
Subject: RE: Are you alive?

You know, there's really no need to worry. The last time I checked I was a grown adult.

Yes, I'm in Kentucky staying with friends. I'll be honest and say it hasn't been a cakewalk, but things are starting to look up. I've been doing research again—the idiot I'm staying with built me my own lab in the house—so that's been keeping me busy. Tonight I actually headed down to a local coffee shop and "talked shop" with some of the local professors and students. Apparently stupidity extends south of the border, too.

Take care of yourself and don't make stupid mistakes.  
-mrm

****

He got back a reply a few minutes later - she must be up studying.

****

From: Ashley [mailto:Ashley.tinnsdale@mit.edu]  
Sent: Thursday, January 10, 2008 02:40 AM   
To: M. Rodney McKay [mailto:rodneymckayphdphd@gmail.com]

OMG! It's so awesome to hear from you! Your own lab!? How freaking sweet! Now I know who to call when I graduate. :-D

I'm glad you're feeling better, Professor. Did you get the chocolates we sent you?

-A

****

From: M. Rodney McKay [mailto:rodneymckayphdphd@gmail.com]  
Sent: Thursday, January 10, 2008 02:45 AM   
To: Ashley [mailto:Ashley.tinnsdale@mit.edu]  
Subject: RE: Are you alive?

It's not anything big, so don't come looking down here. There are other much bigger and better labs you can apply to.

Chocolates?  
-mrm

****

From: Ashley [mailto:Ashley.tinnsdale@mit.edu]  
Sent: Thursday, January 10, 2008 02:53 AM   
To: M. Rodney McKay [mailto:rodneymckayphdphd@gmail.com]

 

Yeah, we sent chocolates a few months ago, when it first happened. We'll send more since you didn't get them. :-D

-A

****

From: M. Rodney McKay [mailto:rodneymckayphdphd@gmail.com]  
Sent: Thursday, January 10, 2008 02:55 AM   
To: Ashley [mailto:Ashley.tinnsdale@mit.edu]  
Subject: RE: Are you alive?

You don't have to send me chocolates. It's not like Boston has anything special about it's chocolate. And shouldn't you be sleeping? You have classes in the morning.  
-mrm

****

From: Ashley [mailto:Ashley.tinnsdale@mit.edu]  
Sent: Thursday, January 10, 2008 02:59 AM   
To: M. Rodney McKay [mailto:rodneymckayphdphd@gmail.com]

I'm heading to bed now. Big test tomorrow that I was studying for. I'm glad you're feeling better, Professor. Talk to you soon!

-A

****

Rodney rolled his eyes and shot off another quick email before shutting down his computer and heading to his own bed. Things were certainly looking up.

****

Ever since that first night at the coffee house, all Rodney could think of was what it would be like to go back. Just before John got back with all the house stuff—which Rodney just had him put into storage—he spent the better part of a day making up business cards so he would have something to give out with his email and his cell number.

It was pathetic and he got this weird nervous stomach every time he thought about driving into Louisville.

God, it had been fun and really nice to feel wanted.

The day of the meeting, he went through several changes of clothes before he finally decided on an outfit, checked to make sure he had his new business cards at least ten times, and paced his room for a good hour to kill time since he was ready too early.

He tried to take his time as he drove into the city, but he just couldn't get past the excitement. He ended up there fifteen minutes early, but it gave him more than enough time to find a spot in the back of the coffee shop and get some food before everyone got there.

He had to admit, Scarlett had been right about the coffee. It was amazing.

And the sandwich—some new fangled ham and cheese with fancy French names—was really good, too. And the brownies….to die for.

It didn't take long before some of the people he had met last week started to drift in. They all seemed happy to see him, which was a huge relief. When Gordon walked in, his face lit up when he saw Rodney. "Hey there. I was hoping to see you tonight."

"You were?" he asked, gesturing to the nearby chair.

Gordon sat down and scooted close. "I've been looking forward to getting to know you better."

"Oh, before I forget," Rodney said, digging into his pocket. "I wanted to give you this."

Gordon gave him a sweet smile as he pocketed it. "Perfect. I'll make sure to use it."

"So…what brings you to Louisville? You move here for the job?"

Gordon shrugged. "I've lived here all my life. When I was offered the position at the college, I took it. This is home, and probably always will be. What about you? What brings you to this part of the country?"

"Really? You were born and raised here?"

He nodded again and held up a hand like he was pledging something. "A certified native."

"Huh. I didn't think that was possible. I mean, I know John was born here, but he just came back into the fold a year or so ago."

"John?"

"Sheppard. I met him when I was working for the government. We worked together and he's been helping me out after my sister's death."

Gordon raised an eyebrow. "The John Sheppard? The black sheep of Louisville?"

Rodney chuckled as he nodded. "One and the same. He's been a good friend with everything, especially when it comes to my niece. He's good with kids when I'm not at all."

"Hmm." Gordon waved a hand. "Enough about him. Tell us more about you. Your background, what you research. I want to know you."

Rodney shrugged. "I'm Canadian, but have been working for the US government since I was in college. Lots of projects, mostly all classified. I focus mainly on theoretical physics and astrophysics and even some mechanical engineering issues. Whatever they need, really. Right now I'm doing my own research. I'm between jobs."

Amy broke into the conversation. "I'm an engineer - what kinds of things are you working on?"

"Right now I'm working on power conversion from vacuum energy sources."

"Sweet." That got the heads of every other scientist in the group pointed in their direction.

"A lot of it is theoretical," he said at some point as he got up to go to the bathroom. "It's more what ifs than anything."

The debate raged late into the night. To his surprise, a few of them actually came up with paths he hadn't even thought to take. It was exhilarating having this kind of debate again.

Part of him, though, wished Radek was here. He would enjoy this—and have fun telling them in Czech how dumb they were on certain points.

For the first time in a while he let himself really think about what he had given up when he walked away.

How much further along would he have gotten with the resources of the entire Ancient database? How many times would he have been kidnapped by crazed aliens intent on wanting him for something? Honestly, there were things he missed and things he didn't. The running for his life bits he didn't miss at all.

And if he had stayed, he wouldn't even have this much of John. He couldn't find it in him to regret that.

Gordon was nice—and he seemed interested. But was that something he wanted to pursue? Rodney was torn. He wanted John, but that wasn't going to go anywhere. He knew that. So maybe Gordon was a good substitute.

At the same time... did he really want to start a relationship with someone based on that? Maybe it was better to see if Gordon wanted sex or something more.

Although sex would not be a bad thing.

Sex he could handle. It was all the other stuff he didn't really know if he wanted. At least, not from Gordon.

Rodney spent the next day or so turning over everything in his head. He'd learned on Wednesday that the group actually met a few times a week—nearly every day there was someone there to talk to. Rodney held off until Friday before he climbed into his car and headed back into the city.

It was addicting. The conversations, the attention. After a few weeks, Rodney ended up there more often than he was home. It got his blood pumping and his brain working. He felt young and wanted like he hadn't ever felt before—even when he was on a team on Atlantis. Here they accepted him for who he was and for what he was—without making him conform into some kind of mold.

He ended up going more nights than not, and his friendship with Gordon grew. Even he now recognized that Gordon was hitting on him, but for some reason he was reluctant to give in.

He didn't know what was stopping him. He liked sex and Gordon was good looking and smart. But every time he seriously considered going home with him, something stopped him.

He started noticing the lights on under John and Andrea's door about a month after he started going to the meetings. Since there wasn't any sound, and Andrea seemed well-rested while John had circles under his eyes, it was obvious who was up, the question was, why?

Rodney didn't know why he asked John to go with him one day. It just kind of…came out. He wanted to take it back as soon as he made the invitation, but he couldn't. He was being selfish, he knew. This was something that was his and his alone and he liked it that way. But John…

Yeah, he couldn't refuse John anything.

When they got there, he tried to ignore the other man's presence, and just enjoy himself. To the point where, when Gordon made the usual offer to join him in the men's room, this time, Rodney accepted.

The surprise on Gordon's face was priceless.

When they got to the men's room, he was nervous, but Gordon didn't hesitate. "I've wanted to do this since you first walked in the door." He pulled Rodney in for a kiss.

It was nice—god was it nice. Rodney let Gordon walk him back a few steps until his back hit the wall, letting the other man kiss him senseless.

Gordon moved down his neck, kissing him hard enough that Rodney knew he was leaving a mark.

Rodney felt his body responding and he welcomed it. God. He hadn't done something like this in years and it felt good, so good. He touched then, stroked and tugged cloth, searching for skin.

Gordon obliged him, slipping a hand under Rodney's shirt.

"Yeah," he groaned, letting his head fall back against the wall.

"Can I touch you? I want to touch you."

"Yeah, do it. If you don't, I don't think I can ever forgive you," Rodney said, spreading his legs a little as his pulse picked up.

Gordon made a pleased noise and opened Rodney's fly, sticking his hands down his pants.

The hand on his dick—and one that wasn't his own—was so, so good. He groaned as Gordon stroked him, felt the arousal pooling at the bottom of his spine.

"I'm going to make you come so hard you'll see stars."

"Not…not going to take much."

Gordon's hand sped up, his grip got tighter.

Rodney groaned. "I'm gonna…"

Gordon didn't slow down until Rodney was coming. At some point the other man had grabbed a paper towel so it didn't make a mess as he milked Rodney dry.

"Yeah," Rodney panted, coming down off his high. "Yeah…"

"I can't wait to do that to you all night long."

"Don't want to get carried away," Rodney said, shifting on his feet. "Do you want?" he asked, vaguely gesturing downward, feeling Gordon's erection pressed against his thigh.

"Get on your knees and suck me."

"No, I won't do that here and not the first time."

"I want to be in your mouth."

"It's nice to want things. Do you want a hand job or no?"

Gordon gave him an irritated look. "You're killing my mood. But yes. I do."

"There's some things I won't do on a first date—or even a second. Take it or leave it," Rodney said as he straightened his pants, shifting so Gordon was against the wall.

"I'll take it. For now." Gordon pressed his erection against Rodney's body.

Rodney opened Gordon's pants easily with the flick of his wrist, taking him in hand. His cock was nice, thick and hard—just what he liked. Rodney vaguely wondered if John was like that, too.

He found his thoughts wandering out of the bathroom as he jerked Gordon off—to another dark-haired man sitting not ten feet away.

It wasn't fair to Gordon, but right now, Rodney didn't care. He'd gotten some and was still positively purring from his orgasm. Would Rodney do it again? Maybe.

Gordon was coming a few minutes later, and didn't seem to notice that Rodney's attention had wandered. "God, that was good. I can't wait to try the rest of you."

"On step at a time," Rodney said, stepping over to the sink to wash off his hand. "But it was pretty good," he said, offering Gordon a smile over his shoulder.

The other man cleaned himself up as well, then stepped in to kiss Rodney again.

"Thanks," Rodney said quietly when he pulled away.

"No, thank you."

"We should probably head back out there, although with how long we've been gone people are bound to know what we were doing."

Gordon gave him a very satisfied smile. "I hope so. I want them all to know you're taken."

Rodney blushed as they headed out and could feel it deepening when they got a few catcalls. Yeah. They all knew.

He caught John's gaze, and saw the frown the other man quickly hid. He had been acting weird all night.

Rodney shrugged it off. They were both adults. John had Andrea and Rodney had Gordon—or might have Gordon if he decided to move forward with it.

They stayed a few more hours before heading home. Once they were in the car, John shot a look at him. "So... have fun?"

Rodney glanced over at John, narrowing his eyes. "What? Yeah. Of course. They're fun to talk to. Did you?"

"Yeah. What happened to the guy you were talking to most of the night? I didn't see him leave."

"Gordon?" Rodney glanced at him again before turning back to the road as he pulled out. What did John care about him for? "He left a few minutes before we did."

"Ahh." He drew the syllables out.

Rodney looked over at John again. He found that he was starting to get annoyed. "What?"

"Nothing."

Rodney rolled his eyes and focused on the road. It was easier. And honestly, he didn't need this kind of attitude from John—someone who was supposedly his friend. "Obviously it's not nothing if you brought it up. What?"

"Nothing. I'm glad you found someone." John gave him a weak smile.

Okay. Even Rodney could tell that was fake. "He's just a friend." Granted, Rodney hadn't decided if they were going to do more than he had, but John didn't need to know that.

"Okay. I'm still glad you found someone you can relax with."

What was up with John? It's not like Rodney had to pass his friends through John to get his approval. Rodney was an adult. He could do whatever the hell he wanted. He let the thoughts circle over and over in his head before he finally decided to say something. "You know, I don't have to ask for your permission."

At least John looked surprised and sorry. "I know. I wasn't suggesting you had to. I'm happy for you."

"You don't sound happy." And god. Now he sounded like his mother. Wonderful.

John rubbed at his face. "I'm just tired. It's been a long night, and I really had to concentrate to follow a lot of the conversations. They're really fascinating people."

"They are," Rodney said with a nod, trying not to let his anger and annoyance creep into his voice, but he knew he failed miserably.

John sighed softly. "I'm not giving permission, or suggesting you need it. I just want you to be happy."

"Just…" Rodney said, starting to gesture, but he stopped, clamping down on the steering wheel again. "Drop it."

John seemed to deflate, but nodded. "Okay." The fact that he had the grace to actually look like he recognized that he had pushed the wrong buttons and was sorry for it was the only reason Rodney didn't tear him a new one.

That and he couldn't help but feel bad when he saw John's face. God, he was such a sucker sometimes.

Neither of them said anything else for the rest of the drive, or up the stairs as they headed into their respective bedrooms.

Whatever release he'd gotten from the handjob was gone, replaced instead by a weird tension he'd never had with John before.

He ended up in his lab the next day, working well into the night without a stop. Things were clicking and he didn't want to interrupt his train of thought. He slept late and after brunch decided he was going to head back into the city. He wanted to see Amy and Gordon and the crew and bounce a few more ideas off them.

He made a point of not running into John. He knew if the other man asked to come, he wouldn't be able to say no, and honestly, he wasn't sure he wanted him to come again. It was... distracting.

But god, the conversation that night was fantastic. He was still buzzing when he got home, surprised to find John sitting on the floor inside his door.

"John? What the hell are you doing up?"

John looked up, and god... he looked like shit. "Hey. Didn't realize what time it was. What time is it?"

"Two in the morning."

"Oh. Andrea left. Two days ago. She said she'd been moving out for two weeks, and that I was jealous, and she didn't want half of me."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Rodney asked as he moved into John's room. The smell hit him as soon as he was inside—alcohol and sweat and gah…he didn't want to think about it. "And why does it smell like a bar? Have you been drinking?"

John shook an empty bottle, looking a bit sad that it was, in fact, empty. "Of you. Or something. She wasn't clear about it, but she said I was jealous, and she didn't have all of me. She thinks I want.... something. I don't know. I should be happy for you, and I am, but I want to kill Gordon. That's not normal, is it? I'm a fucking horrible friend that I want to kill all your lovers."

Rodney sighed. Why did Andrea have to be so smart? Why did she have to go and bring up things like happiness? And why did she have to bring up Gordon? And lovers? He closed his eyes and counted to ten, deciding to focus on his friend's horrible hangover instead. "That was my vodka and you're drunk."

"Probably. But I still don't understand what she meant. I've been trying for weeks now to figure it out." John gave him a pathetic look, like he was supposed to have all the answers.

"Drinking won't help the revelation come to you," Rodney said as he leaned down to grab John's arm, dragging him to his feet and toward the bed. Rodney did not envy the headache John would have in the morning. "Let's get you in bed."

John didn't resist, but he didn't have much balance either, falling directly into Rodney's arms as soon as he was vertical.

Rodney tried to hold him steady and not topple over. It was sheer force of will that they didn't end up back on the floor. "Come on, Sheppard. You need to go to bed."

John had a weird look on his face, but he was pretty much boneless so Rodney was able to manhandle him into the bed. "I want you to be happy. So why does it upset me so much when you have sex? I'm happy when you made discoveries, and when you bounce around when you're excited, and when you make faces at Maddie, and call me names."

"I'm not having sex," he said, starting to pull the alcohol-soaked clothes from John's body. And he was not going to think about sex. No. Not at all. That was not a conversation he was having with John—especially not with him soused. "I'm going to get you something for your head and a glass of water. Stay there."

"Okay." He paused long enough that Rodney thought maybe he had fallen asleep. No such luck. "Do you know why I would be jealous?"

Rodney headed into the bathroom, looking for the painkillers and a glass to get him water. He tried to keep his voice level as he answered. "No, John. I don't know," he said. He spotted a glass a moment later and started filling it.

John sighed. "Neither do I. And it's driving me crazy."

"You'll figure it out," he said as he put the glass down on the bedside table and got John up to take the pills.

John blinked at him. It wasn't fair. No one had the right to look that fucking sexy and... adorable, as much as he mentally cringed at the word—while this drunk. "Night."

"Night, John. And…I'm sure you'll figure it out soon enough and then Andrea will be back." That would make it easier for everyone. And if Andrea didn't come back soon, Rodney was tempted to call her himself and beg for her to come back.

"I don't…think I want her to come back. Does that make me horrible, too? I like her a lot, but I don't think I love her. I know I don't love her. Not like that."

"No, John, it doesn't make you horrible," Rodney said with a sigh. It just made things more complicated for him. "Maybe you…just needed the time to figure out what you do want."

"That's what she said, too."

"I always knew she was a smart one. Night, John," Rodney said as he headed out, making sure to close the door behind him.

Once he was in his own room, he ran a hand through his hair and sighed. Why did everything have to be this complicated. Why couldn't John just marry her and get it over with?

It would make things so much easier. But of course, his life had to be complicated and hellish. Between Gordon and John and the terror Madison who hated him, Rodney was certain this had to be some kind of karma for something he did. It was the only reason he could come up with.

The next morning he got up early enough to make sure he was sequestered in his lab long before John would stir. So he was a bit surprised when a small person was suddenly at his elbow later in the afternoon, tugging at his sleeve. "Uncle Mer?"

"Yes, what?" he asked, not really looking down.

"Will you come play with the horsies with me? I'm not allowed to go by myself, and no one else will come."

"They are horses, not horsies."

She had the lost puppy look. "Please? I just want to pet them and say hi and feed them apples."

"They're not pets, you know," he said, finally glancing down at her. "They're not there for you to pet and play with."

She sniffed. "Uncle John says I'm allowed to go visit them, but only if someone goes with me. And everyone else is too busy. Please, Uncle Mer?"

"Did someone teach you how to take care of them yet?"

"Mister Joe was showing me how to take care of my horsie."

"Horse, Madison. It's a horse not a horsie. If you want to take care of something you have to be able to refer to it correctly."

"I know, Uncle Mer. But horsie sounds prettier."

Rodney sighed. "If you can't say it correctly, you can't take care of them."

"I can say horse, Uncle Mer. I just like horsie better. Now please, can we go to the stables?"

"You can't be lazy like that, Madison," he said, saving the document he was working on. "You need to be precise in your speech and how you refer to things. One small miss-step could mean disaster."

"Like what?"

"Well, like if you were putting together a recipe to…make a cake. If you put in the wrong spice because you said the name wrong, the cake would be horrible and it wouldn't come out right," he said as he steered her outside, stopping to grab their coats on the way.

"But horse and horsie sound the same. No one else says they don't know what a horsie is."

"But what if someone doesn't speak English natively? What if it meant something completely different in another language, maybe even the name of a poison? Would you want that in your cake?"

She shook her head. "That wouldn't be nice."

"That's why you have to be precise in what you say and you need to start now so it becomes second nature to you."

She nodded. "Okay, Uncle Mer. I'll try."

"Good," he said with a nod as they walked outside. He was vaguely surprised she'd come to him in the first place. Although it was as a last resort. Apparently he's good enough for that.

When they got to the stables, she immediately went up to one of the stalls. The horse put its nose down so she could pet it, giggling.

"Is that your horse?"

She shook her head. "No, I just like him. Mine is over here. She's still a baby." Madison led him around to another set of stalls, where the foals were kept. She went straight to one who came over to greet her. She put her arms around its neck and gave it a hug.

"You know it's going to take a long time to train it before you can ride it."

She nodded. "Mister Joe says she won't be ready to start learning how to be a real horse until she's bigger. But he says it's important for me to visit her a lot so she can trust me later. I named her Silly Putty."

Rodney rolled his eyes, but didn't comment. "So, what horse are you riding now? The one we were just by?"

"Sometimes, if Mister Joe or Uncle John are here. I'm not allowed to ride unless one of them says it's okay and stays with me."

"That's good and you need to listen to them. Have they taught you how to brush the horse down, how to take care of them?"

"Mister Joe taught me a little bit, and Uncle John has showed me how to brush them. Can we brush Scarlett Letter? She's the horsie...horse... Uncle John lets me help him with sometimes because she's older and doesn't hurt anyone."

Rodney nodded. "We can. We can give…Scarlett Letter a snack, too."

"Yay!" She gave him a quick hug, then ran over to a bag where she pulled out a handful of sugar cubes. "Scarlett likes these. Come on, Uncle Mer. I'll introduce you."

"Get an apple, too."

She pulled one out of another bag, then led him back to where they had been before. She went to a different stall near the back, where a red mare looked like she was napping. She actually had some grey in her muzzle, so Rodney knew she had to be older. "Scarlett?" Madison whispered at her.

The horse stirred at her voice, moving closer to the edge of the stall and gently butting Madison's head with her own.

Madison giggled, and carefully fed the horse a sugar cube. "She's really nice, Uncle Mer. Uncle John says I can't ride her because she's too old now, but she used to run races!"

"Uncle John would know," he said as he unlocked the gate and swung it open, letting them into the stall. He grabbed two brushes and handed one over to Madison. "So, what did Joe teach you so far?"

She set the treats down on the ground and took the brush. "He showed me how to brush her side. Like this."

Rodney watched her carefully. "You're doing well, but you have to make sure you are going with the grain. Here, watch," he said, moving in to show her himself.

She watched, then nodded, duplicating it. "Uncle John says if I learn to take care of them proper, he'll talk to you about letting me enter contests where people ride horses. Can I, Uncle Mer?"

"We'll see." He wasn't sure what scared him more: the fact that she wanted to ride in tournaments or that she might get thrown off a horse or hurt or injured.

She rolled her eyes. "That's what Uncle John says, too." They were quiet for a few minutes as they brushed Scarlett Letter. "Know what, Uncle Mer? I think Scarlett wants to talk and tell us how much she likes this. I bet she gets mad that she can't talk. Can you make something so she can talk?"

"No. Animals don't talk."

"Because they can't. But if you made them something so they could, I bet they'd be really happy."

"They don't think like we do, Madison. They can't reason. They don't have thinking intellect. They just do things because of instinct or because it feels good."

"How do you know?"

"Because I'm a genius and an adult and I know a lot more than you do."

She rolled her eyes. "Do you know why cotton candy is pink?"

"Food coloring."

"Nuh uh. It's because it's made by fairies, and that's their favorite color." She gave him a triumphant smile.

"It's sugar colored with dye."

Madison gave him a "look." "Uncle Mer, I know that, but my version is much more interesting."

"Truth is essential, Madison. Remember that."

"I'm not lying, I'm telling you a story about fairies."

"But fairies don't exist."

"So? We can still make up stories about them to tell each other. Like a bedtime story, only we're not going to sleep."

"Madison, pay attention to what you're doing," he said, correcting her. "You need to be aware of how you're taking care of the horse."

"I am paying attention, Uncle Mer."

"No, you weren't. You were not doing it the way you were supposed to. Do you want to horse to not like what you're doing?"

She immediately nodded. "I want her to like it."

"Then you need to do it right."

She nodded and bit her bottom lip, focusing on brushing exactly the way he had shown her.

Rodney watched her for a few minutes before nodding. "That's good, that's right. Keep doing it that way."

"Does she like it now, Uncle Mer?"

"Yes. It's much better. It won't hurt her this way."

"I like her."

"Good. Then you need to treat her right and take care of her."

"I will. And When Silly Putty gets old I'll take care of her, too!"

"Well, when she gets older. All horses need someone to do this for them. When you take a horse, you also take a big responsibility," Rodney said, the brushing soothing his own mind. "You have to do everything for the horse because they can't do it themselves."

She nodded. "Like a baby."

"A really big, hairy baby with no opposable thumbs."

She giggled.

Rodney smiled at her, feeling something soften in his chest. He checked his watch. "Hey, it's time for you to get ready for dinner. Go wash up and see Katie. I'll finish up here for you."

"Okay Uncle Mer! Thanks for coming down with me!" She giggled again then put her brush away and dashed up to the house.

Rodney shook his head and chuckled as she ran away. He turned his attention back to the horse, talking quietly to her as he finished brushing her. He used to like doing this—or all things—when he'd been taught to ride. It was quieting, calming. Apparently it still was.

"Rodney."

He glanced up, and when he spotted John, offered a smile. "Hey. What are you doing out here?"

The other man had a weird look on his face. "I figured it out. What I was jealous about."

"Oh?" Rodney asked, finishing up a few last brush strokes. He raised an eyebrow at John. Revelations were usually bad things. "And?"

John actually looked terrified. "Gordon. The bitch who hurt you before. All of them. I hate them because I want it to be me."

Rodney blinked. John couldn't have said what it sounded like he said. Could he have? "You want it to be you?" Rodney asked, saying each word slowly wanting to make sure he was following.

"Yes. Me. With you. I never realized... all this time... I've been... but I didn't know what it was. I was ignoring it, all the times I... wanted you."

Okay. This had to be a joke. He tossed the brush on the small stool just outside the stall. "So, what? I made you gay?"

"I don't know. All I know right now is that I want... you." John's eyes closed, and the look on his face...

"Are you sure?" Rodney asked quietly, realizing that John might actually be on the level, that this might not be a joke. And if this wasn't a joke…if John was giving him the one thing he thought he could never have… "Because, if this is some kind of a joke—"

"No joke. I... God, I've never... not for anyone... never wanted..." John was actually shaking a bit. Rodney had never seen him looking so afraid. Of rejection. Of Rodney rejecting him.

Rodney took a deep breath, stepping closer, testing the waters. But he had to see John's eyes. He had to know if this was real. "John…open your eyes."

John's eyes opened slowly. Rodney could see the fear, yes, but at the same time... he could see how sincere John was.

"Are you sure?" he asked again, the words quiet.

John just nodded.

Rodney let out a breath and lifted his hand, gently touching the side of John face, leaning into the space that had always been off limits, too personal, to intimate. He licked his lips and tilted his head, gently pressing a soft kiss to the lips he'd spent far too long thinking about.

He was still expecting John to pull away, to stop him. Instead, he got a deep, needy moan and an invitation to delve deeper into John's mouth, as the other man pressed into his touch.

The next few minutes were a little frantic and heated as Rodney pressed closer, wanting and needing. He could feel the press of John's erection and it was all because of him. But what if this was a fluke or a one-time thing. He couldn't…He backed off with small, gentle nips, forcing himself to pull back so he could see John's face. "John…"

John's hands were fisted in his shirt. "Please... Rodney...."

"Are you sure about this? I don't want you to regret it later and I can't…I couldn't stand…stay here if this goes badly." And honestly, he didn't know where else he could go. He had Madison now and he had to worry about her. Could he uproot her again? She'd hate him for certain if he did.

Panic flared across John's face, and his grip tightened. "Don't go. You can't go. I can't.... Now that I know, I can't.... Not without you...."

"Shhh," Rodney said, petting the side of John's face, trying to quiet him. "I'm not saying I'm leaving, but I also don't want to ruin what we have with just a…fling."

"Not a fling." John shivered against him. "I think... God... I think I've been in love with you for fucking years and didn't know it."

"That's what you say now." He hated he had to ask these questions, say these things, but Rodney knew himself, knew his mind. He was already fragile. He knew that. This would be…the worst kind of rejection.

"Spent the last few weeks thinking about it, trying to figure it out. I've... Rodney, I've never wanted anyone, not like this. I always thought people were lying when they... talked about.... talked about needing someone like this..."

Rodney closed his eyes and breathed for a long moment. "It's just that…after everything…another rejection would just be…devastating," he said, putting it out there for John to see. All his cards were on the table.

John made a soft noise, and suddenly his lips were on Rodney's, kissing him with more passion than Rodney could imagine. And it was for him. All of it.

Rodney moaned, his body trembling and shuddering against the onslaught. Rodney felt John moving him, forcing him back a few steps until his back was pressed against the stable wall. John was taller and still stronger than Rodney and he loved that thrill, the sense of power from a lover. This was just what he had imagined and he wanted it more than ever.

John's hips pressed into his, and the other man's erection was impossible to miss. That was something he couldn't fake.

Rodney tugged at the hem of John's shirt, searching for skin. But John was determined, it seemed, to climb inside of him, making it hard.

He finally managed to get under John's shirt, and that made the man in his arms break the kiss, gasping for air even as he tried to press closer.

If he didn't do something now, John was liable to take him right here and Rodney had no intention of having sex in the stables. Straw in intimate places was never a good thing. "John…house…bed…"

"Yes. Bed." He didn't move away though, his hands roaming, trying to find their way under Rodney's shirt.

"I am not having sex with you and a horse," Rodney whispered, the corner of his mouth twitching into a smile.

John laughed softly and slowly pulled away. "I... yeah. Yeah. No pit stops. I... god I need you. I need... I don't even know what the fuck I need. I've never.... I don't know what to do."

"What we were doing will be just fine. Even better with less clothes in the way." Rodney smiled, trying to take a step back from his arousal so he could actually walk to the house.

"Oh yeah..."

"Come on before the horse kicks us out," Rodney said, shoving John gently to get him moving to the house.

They managed to get back to the house without incident, sneaking through the hallways and to John's room. The walk back gave him a little breathing room so everything wasn't so close, so pressing.

John was eager and fun and sex was just as good as he thought it was going to be. Once they were both naked and they were pressed up against each other, Rodney had to concentrate not to come right away.

John was everything he thought he was going to be—and more—as cheesy as that sounded. He had so much to teach John about what it was like to pleasure a guy. It was different and even better than women.

Rodney was going to have a lot of fun teaching John because he also knew that John was a very good student.

That much was obvious from how fast he was learning already. As he left with a lingering, promising kiss for the day, Rodney realized he was in John's room. Naked. Where he had had sex with John. Multiple times. Holy shit.

And Simon knew.

Rodney wasn't sure what he thought about Simon knowing. The man was loyal to the Sheppards, but Rodney wasn't family. It could be different.

He managed to get over to his own room without incident, and looked around. John had asked him to move in with him. In his room.

That was a big step. But, it wasn't like he wasn't living with him already. He was living in the same house with him. Just across the hall.

Rodney had to pinch himself. This couldn't be real. John Sheppard, the man he had been lusting after for more years than he wanted to admit, had sex with him. And wanted him to move into his bedroom.

Rodney shook his head. No. It couldn't be true. There had to be some catch.

Rodney ended up wandering around his rooms for awhile, turning everything over and over in his mind. He wanted this—god, did he want this. It seemed like John wanted it, too.

After a while, he decided to move a few things over. Some clothes and a laptop. That way, he could say he had moved in and have something to wear, but if John changed his mind, he still had a room across the hall, too.

He ended up back in his lab that afternoon, twitching a little, distracted more than he'd like. He kept turning over everything in his head. Hendricks was…annoyed at him for the Gordon thing. Said it was too early to have a relationship. He wasn't about ready to tell him what he'd done with John.

When dinner finally rolled around, they sat down at the table with Madison chatting up a storm between them.

Rodney wasn't sure what to say, what to do. He was honestly waiting for John's freak-out. He glanced up at the other man, his cheeks warming when he thought of what they'd done.

John gave him a small smile and a wink. He didn't look quite as happy as when he had left this morning, but he wasn't screaming either. He mouthed a "later" in Rodney's direction before they both turned their attention back to Madison.

She was blathering about one thing or another—Rodney really wasn't paying attention—and was relieved when Sarah finally came to bring her to her room for whatever they did at night. Bed time stories? Television? Games? Rodney didn't really care.

They moved into the entertainment room, and John sat next to him, close enough to be touching. "So, I have good news and bad."

John's news hadn't been unexpected. The Sheppard family seemed to love skeletons in their closet. He and John as a couple would just be one more to add to the pile. It was getting pretty crowded in there, but if this is what was need to keep John—to have this right now—then so be it.

Granted, it might only be a matter of time before John freaked out and dumped him, but for this little while Rodney wanted to hang onto this small piece of happiness life had given him.

****

The next few weeks were good, tentative, but good. John was a quick learner and loved to put his research to good use. Rodney still couldn't believe the veritable library of sex books that had ended up in the bedroom—or how often he found John reading them when he thought Rodney wasn't looking.

One afternoon, early, Scarlett popped her head into his lab. "Ah, you have a minute?"

Rodney eyed her carefully as she hovered at his door. "Depends. Are you going to berate me for talking to Gordon again?"

"No, but you're not going to like what I've got for you."

"Oh wonderful," he said, rolling his eyes. "You're a bastion of good news today."

She shrugged and came further into the room. "I can put it off a day or two, but that's about it. So do you want it now or later?"

Rodney sighed and stretched out his hand, wiggling his fingers. "Just give it to me."

She sighed and handed over a file. "I've been in touch with the authorities in Canada, and they're proceeding with the case against Meyers. They're going to need you to fill out some paperwork, as well as send them a sworn testimony of everything that happened."

Rodney felt like his heart stopped for a few seconds before he forced himself to breathe as he opened the file. "Okay. We knew it was going to come sooner or later."

"I was trying to do as much as possible to keep you from having to, but there are certain things they absolutely can't do without your signature, unfortunately."

"Or my statement. I know," he said quietly. "When do they need everything?"

"End of the week. They just got everything to me today that I couldn't get around having you look at, so you've got a few days to look at it and sign everything."

"How do they want the statement? Written? Video?"

"Written for now. I'm still negotiating on the video statement. They want you to fly up and give it in person, but the lawyers and I are fighting it. I'll keep you posted, but for now, just type it up."

"If at all possible, I don't want to go to Toronto."

"I figured. I'm not sure I'll be able to prevent it, but I have put my foot down about giving live testimony. They can take it on video."

Rodney nodded. "You went over this with John already?" John had been…handling him and as much as he knew it should bother him, Rodney for some reason, didn't care this time. The isolation from the world that it gave him was nice—nicer than he'd thought.

She smiled. "Yes. He's looked at all of it, as have our legal team. If you don't have any questions, you can just go through and sign everything pretty quickly so you can focus on the one part I can't do for you."

"Yeah, okay," he said, letting out a breath of air. "I'll try to do this today since you already broke my concentration."

"Thanks. And sorry to rain on your parade."

"I'm not sure what's worse—this or the constant nagging I get from you every time I talk to Gordon."

"Well, he's obviously only after one thing."

"He knows that's not happening. I can differentiate between friends and lovers, you know. And there is a difference. It's not like I'm cheating on John."

"No, but he wants you to. So why put yourself in that situation?"

"We're just talking. And it's mostly stuff I can't talk to John about—like high level theoretical science. It's not like we're doing anything else."

"But the point is that he wants to do something else."

"You're the one who introduced us."

"I introduced you to the group, and I'm not suggesting you stop going, just... don't favor Gordon quite so much."

"I happen to like talking to him."

"He happens to want in your pants."

"My pants are currently occupied."

She rolled her eyes. "I know that, you know that, John knows that, but Gordon refuses to believe it. I'm just worried he'll do something to try and drive a wedge between you guys so he can have you to himself."

"And the last time I checked my ass is spending every night in bed with John."

"Men!" She shook her fingers at him. "That's not the point! The point is that he wants you, and you're leading him on, whether you mean to or not, by keeping a closer relationship with him than anyone else in the group!"

"I talk to everyone!"

"But you talk to him the most, you show him favoritism. In his mind, that means he still has a shot at you."

"It means that he's not entirely stupid!" Rodney sighed. "Did John put you up to this? Is he complaining to you?"

"No, he hasn't said a word, and knowing him, he won't. But I can tell he's jealous, and Gordon will use that to his advantage."

"I'm not doing anything except talking to him."

She made a rude sound. "You're talking to him off by yourselves apart from the rest of the group. That signals everyone that you're trying to get him alone, or he's trying to get you alone and you're going along with it."

"What do you want me to do? I like talking to Gordon. Do you want me to hide in the house from now until I'm dead because I might talk to someone who's good looking and John might be jealous? John's not even sure if this is what he really wants."

"You're the only one who isn't sure what John wants. He knows exactly what he wants and he hasn't kept it secret. And no, I'm not saying hide in the house or any shit like that. Stop trying to blow up my words. I'm not even saying don't go to the group meetings. Just don't sit in a corner with you and Gordon. Talk to him as part of the group instead."

"Most of the group can't keep up with us."

"So? Let them sit around and stare at you while the two of you do all the talking. You can still dominate the conversation. The problem isn't talking to Gordon, McKay. It's talking to Gordon off by yourselves while ignoring everyone else when he's publicly said he wants to sleep with you."

"Fine," Rodney said, slamming the folder down on his desk. "I won't go. Now get out of my office."

She gave him a light smack on the arm. "Look, I know you've got a lot on your plate, but stop trying to make it sound like I'm telling you something other than what I am. How many times in this conversation alone have I said I'm NOT telling you not to go?"

Rodney glared at her.

She glared right back. "You're trying to make me the bad guy by only hearing what you want to hear. I'm not even telling you not to talk to Gordon anymore. Just stop doing it in dark corners while he tries to feel you up."

"He's not feeling me up."

"I said trying, and what did you think all that reaching over you and finding small tables and then fumbling to grab his coffee when you do was all about?"

"He's always been clumsy."

"No, he hasn't. I've known him for years and he didn't get clumsy until he met you. He's doing everything in his power to steal you away from John. He's just gotten more subtle about it."

Rodney crossed his arms over his chest. "Are you done berating me? I think I'd rather re-live my sister's death than deal with this every day I'm supposed to go into the city."

She snorted. "Fine, but don't come running to me when you wake up one day with John gone because Gordon made him believe you were cheating on him."

"I'm not cheating on him!"

"Gordon is doing everything he can to make John believe you are so he can get him out of the picture."

"And I said I'd stop going! If that's not enough to convince you then I don't know what else to do!"

"You're not listening. You have to be the most frustrating man alive." She rolled her eyes again. "I told you, all you have to do is stop letting him drag you off alone to dark corners. That's it."

"Are you done?"

"Yes, fine. Do what you want, I know you will anyway." She shook her head. "Let me know when you're done with the paperwork, and I'll get it where it needs to go."

Rodney grumbled something as she turned and left, finally leaving him in peace. He steeled himself and got working on the stuff for Meyers' trial. It wasn't easy, but it needed to get done. After everything, he wanted Meyers' to pay for what he'd done to Jeannie and Caleb—and Madison.

He had finished the first draft and was taking a break when John popped in. "Hey there."

He glanced up quickly before going back to the papers. "Hi. I thought you were over at the stables."

"I was. I just got back." He came over and wrapped his arms around Rodney's shoulders, pressing a kiss to the back of his neck.

"And apparently there's something about horses that makes you horny," Rodney said, pressing back into John.

"What can I say, I'm a simple man." Rodney could feel his smile.

"I already said I wasn't going to the coffee shop tonight. You don't have to do anything to make me stay here—and don't think I didn't notice you get frisky earlier in the day on certain days."

"Hmmm, busted. But no, that's not why I'm, ah, frisky. I can't seem to help myself when it comes to you."

"Yeah yeah yeah," Rodney said with a sigh as he let his eyes close, leaning into John more. "Were you watching porn again then?"

John puffed air into Rodney's hair. "Andrea is coming over tonight to congratulate us."

"Oh? What does she want?"

"She just said to tell you she's bringing cake."

"Mmmm….it better be good cake."

"She promised it would be."

"When's she coming?" Rodney asked, tilting his head so John's mouth could nip down the side of this neck.

Humming, John tilted his head. "She'll be here for dinner."

"And when's dinner?"

"Couple of hours."

"I could use an afternoon snack, then."

"I like snacks." John's hands were roaming.

"I was talking about actual sustenance," Rodney said. "Your assistant is evil."

"We can eat and fool around at the same time. We're both talented like that. I could even feed you. And you hired her."

"She's still evil."

"You hired her." John nuzzled. "And she's the most efficient person I know. What was she doing that makes you say she's evil?"

"The paperwork for the case—and yelling at me about cheating on you."

John's head lifted. "You're cheating on me?"

Rodney sighed loudly. "No, I'm not cheating on you, but the meddler thinks I am and says that you think I am."

"I don't think you're cheating on me. I think that George fellow would like you to cheat on me with him, but that's another story."

"His name is Gordon."

"Whatever."

"And I'm not cheating on you. We just talk. And I decided not to go tonight because that meddling assistant who works for you bludgeoned me into staying in."

John kissed the side of his neck. "I don't think you're cheating on me, and if you want to go, then go. I don't like him, especially since I know he wants you, but that's my problem, not yours."

Rodney snorted. "Snack?"

John straightened with a last kiss to Rodney's neck. "Let's go see what Katie has out."

"Something salty would be nice," Rodney said as John tugged him by the hand. "Maybe dip and chips."

"We can do that."

"Depends what kind of dip. Onion dip would be perfect."

"I was hoping for spinach and artichoke."

"Oooo, the hot dip?"

"Yeah. With some really good crackers."

"No. Pumpernickel bread."

"I like it on a good multi-grain cracker."

"Well, I guess we'll have to see what Katie has, now won't we?" Rodney said with a smile.

"Mmmm." John grinned at him. "And then we can decide where to eat it."

Rodney chuckled as they walked into the kitchen, the smells from the cooking dinner making Rodney's stomach growl. Katie, though, was less than enthusiastic to see them.

"Just what do the two of you think you're doing in my kitchen?"

"Looking for a little snack," Rodney said, gesturing with the hand not enclosed in John's. "Something to tide us over until dinner."

"Dinner is in an hour and a half. You are not going to ruin your appetites."

"We're not five, you know."

She gave him a "look." "The two of you coulda fooled me. Now, you may have some veggies to munch on, but this is all you're getting." She handed over a small plate of cut carrots and celery.

"I was thinking more along the lines of chips and dip," Rodney said looking up from the plate in his hands.

"Well, you aren't getting that. I'll not let the two of you ruin your appetites when we're working so hard to cook a good meal for you."

"But—"

"No buts, mister. You want a snack, some veggies is all you're getting."

John took the plate from his hand.

"Thanks, Katie. We'll take these and wait for dinner."

"But, John…"

John shot him a look before dragging him out. Once they were out of earshot of the kitchen, he relaxed. "One thing I learned about Katie growing up, once she puts her foot down, fighting her on it means you get a plate of raw vegetables for dinner, and none of the staff will serve you anything else until you apologize to her and she gives to okay to get real food again."

"But it's….rabbit food."

"She means it when she says she won't let you spoil your appetite. Especially if she's going out of her way to cook something particular."

"This is just not fair. Between her and Scarlett I'm being tortured. Just wait—I'm sure Andrea will just add to it all."

John pulled him into his arms, pressing a light kiss to Rodney's lips.

"And yes. I know I sound like a five year old," Rodney said when John pulled back. He sighed. "It's stupid but I don't care."

John smiled at him. "One of the things I love about you."

"Oh yeah sure," Rodney said with a snort as John led him to the media room. "Aren't we going back to work?"

"No." John smiled at him. "Dinner is in an hour, so we're going to canoodle instead."

"Canoodle? What the hell is canoodle?"

"A combination of making out and fondling."

"Oh?" Rodney asked, raising an eyebrow.

"But canoodle is way more fun to say."

Rodney rolled his eyes as John tugged him over to the couch.

John put on something mindless, and arranged Rodney so they were completely tangled up together on the couch. He pressed light kisses to any of Rodney's skin he could reach. "See? Canoodling is fun."

"You just like getting me all worked up."

"Well, that's fun, too."

"So you claim."

John hummed and did a bit more nibbling.

Rodney moaned when John hit a particularly sensitive spot behind his ear, arching up into John's body.

John hummed again.

"We have to be presentable, you know," Rodney said, the words ending in a moan as John's hands started wandering, fingers sliding against skin. Of course it didn't stop Rodney from touching, either.

"We have an hour. Plenty of time."

"Yeah, plenty of time to get me hot and bothered," Rodney huffed, pressing lips to John's jaw.

"And there's a problem with that?" John tilted his head to give Rodney better access.

"It is if I have a hard-on when we have company." Rodney licked the pulse-point of John's neck.

John's body was responding; Rodney could feel the evidence of it pressing into his thigh.

"So you really are jealous, aren't you?" Rodney asked a few minutes later, a little breathless as his arousal grew.

"Hmmm?" John was busy working his magic fingers against Rodney's back.

"You. Jealous. We haven't…fooled around like this in a while."

John blinked a few times, then gave Rodney a sheepish smile. "A little. I've been trying to keep it under control though. I don't want to smother you, or force you to stop doing something you obviously enjoy."

"But if you can offer me something I enjoy more…" Rodney said with a smirk.

"I love a good challenge." John grinned and captured Rodney's mouth in a searing kiss.

Rodney moaned into the kiss, his hands tightening on John's back as he arched up into the other man's body. God. John certainly knew how to kiss.

John didn't let up either, driving Rodney higher and higher. When they paused briefly to gasp for air, John gave him a wicked smile. "Gonna make you come just like this."

"Company, John…" Rodney groaned as John's hand slid down the back of Rodney's jeans.

"They can wait."

"Gonna be sticky," Rodney complained, moaning as John's hand settled on his ass, right over his crack. They hadn't done anything like this before. He shuddered, trapped between John's hand and his body.

"You can take a quick shower." John captured his mouth again.

Rodney felt John's finger slide between his checks, grazing his hole. He bucked up into John, moaning into his mouth. It had been forever since he'd been fucked but there was no way that was happening here and now. Not on the couch in the middle of the house.

John's tongue plunged into his mouth, taking control, mimicking what Rodney really wanted from him.

He groaned, starting to get a little desperate. God this was good.

John didn't let up, pushing Rodney closer and closer to the edge.

The next time John ground down into him, the sensation was more than enough to push him over the edge and he came, arching into John's body and moaning into his mouth.

His lover milked him through it, managing to wring every last little bit of orgasm out of Rodney's body like a master.

Rodney slumped into the couch cushions, wrung out and thoroughly sated. He panted, trying to catch his breath even as smaller aftershocks shook his body as John continued to play with his ass.

"Love you."

"Hate you right now," Rodney panted quietly.

"No, you don't."

"Now I'm sticky and hungry."

"The shower it is then."

"Don't you need…" Rodney gestured to John's groin.

"I'll wait." John kissed him again, more gently this time. "Right now, I just want to focus on you."

"I can blow you in the shower," Rodney said as John carefully climbed off Rodney and the couch, pulling him up.

"Any other time I'd take you up on that." John chuckled. "But right now, I'm just in the mood to take care of you."

Rodney snorted, but didn't argue as they made their way up to their room, Rodney's wet pants chafing the whole way. "I can't believe you made me come in my pants."

"I can't believe how hot it is that I made you come in your pants." John batted his hands away so he could undress Rodney himself.

"Idiot."

"Only for you."

'Yeah, yeah, that's what you tell all the girls."

John laughed as he shucked his own clothes and pulled Rodney into the shower. He took the soap and washcloth and started down at Rodney's feet, cleaning them with probably more attention than they'd ever received before.

"Hey, come on," Rodney protested, trying to pull John up. "You don't need to do that. Can't we just shower? Andrea's going to be here soon."

"Shhh. Let me do this. I want to."

"John…"

"Shhh. Relax."

"It's just…awkward. Come on."

"Close your eyes and relax."

"John…" he whined.

"Shhhh."

"I just wanted to take a shower and go eat."

"That's what we're doing." John looked up at him. "Please. Let me do this."

The sight of a naked John Sheppard on his knees in front of Rodney looking up at him was the stuff of every dream he'd ever had and Rodney couldn't say no. He might not get it again and he was selfish enough to want it for himself. He nodded.

The look he got was both grateful and smoldering. John set about washing every inch of Rodney's body, treating him like he was something precious.

It was weird and wonderful and a little too much at times, but Rodney tried to relax, tried to accept what John was giving him. It was a gift, Rodney knew, and one that John didn't give lightly.

By the time John had washed and rinsed his hair, Rodney found himself almost boneless. John captured his mouth in a soft kiss.

"Hey," he said quietly when John pulled back.

"Hey."

Rodney licked his lips. "I…we're getting…pruney."

"Okay." John reached back and shut off the water without breaking eye contact. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"Letting me do that."

"Oh." Rodney blinked at him, realizing he was calmer than he'd been.

John smiled one of his rare, simple smiles that seemed to be reserved just for Rodney.

It made his chest ache in a strange weird way and he rubbed at it before the moment broke a few seconds later.

John stepped out of the shower, pulling Rodney along with him. He dried Rodney off as carefully as he had cleaned him before finally letting him dress himself.

A polite knock on the door interrupted the silence and Rodney moved into the bathroom to finish dressing as John answered the door.

He heard John talking to someone, and he came back over a moment later. "That was Simon. Andrea is here and waiting for us in the dining room."

"Oh good. I'm hungry," Rodney said, trying to fix his hair that was standing on end.

John smiled and reached out to pat down the worst of the offenders, giving Rodney a look so full of affection it made his chest ache again.

"Hey…so what did Andrea want again?"

They walked out hand in hand. "To congratulate us on finally figuring it out. Well, on me finally figuring it out. I think she knew a long time before I did that I loved you."

"Well, I knew she was smart."

John smiled. "And she likes you."

"Supposedly."

"She does."

"I made you gay. I don't see how she can think that's a good thing," he said as they wandered into the dining room. Madison and Andrea were already there, the little girl gushing about something.

They both looked up with he and John entered, and giggled. Andrea stood up and came over, giving first John, then Rodney—she wouldn't let him avoid her—a big hug.

He patted her back awkwardly.

She grinned. "Good to see you again. You've been avoiding me too much lately. Now, I'm starving and I miss Katie's cooking. Let's go eat!"

"I'm not avoiding anyone," Rodney sniffed as they took their places around the table.

"Yes, you are, and no, I don't bite, nor am I angry about you being with John. Let's get that off the table. I've never seen him so happy than he is right now, with you."

"You're not angry now," Rodney said, eyeing the food as it was brought in. It smelled amazing. He was going to miss the food and the service the most when he eventually left here.

"I'm not angry period." She shrugged. "I knew John and I probably weren't a forever kind of thing, and I like seeing him happy more than I liked being with him."

Rodney waved her off. "I know women. They internalize and then BAM! It all comes out at once."

She rolled her eyes. "Do I look like the sort of woman who would do that?"

Rodney glanced up, eyeing her. He nodded after a minute. "Yes. And you could hurt me with your pinkie finger."

She stuck her tongue out at him. "If I wanted to hurt you, I wouldn't have brought you molten chocolate cake. It would be a waste of a perfectly good cake."

"Unless it has poison in it."

"You don't have to eat it if you don't want to. More for me."

"Hey there! Don't be hasty."

She shrugged. "Seriously, I don't hate you Rodney. In fact, there's a guy I'm interested in at work. Being with John just gave me an excuse to not ask him on a date. Now I can, and have, and I'm very excited about it."

"At work? But you run a yoga studio."

"Ad he has been a regular customer whose ass I have ogled for a while now. He does a great downward-facing dog."

"Are you sure he's not gay?"

She made another face at him.

"Well, I'm just saying," he said, pointing toward John. "It's not like it hasn't happened before."

"I'm pretty sure John was always gay, he was just too dense to notice it. No offense." She smiled at John, who blushed. "Chase, on the other hand, ogles me right back. I don't think John has ever, in his life, ogled a woman."

"Yeah yeah," Rodney said, digging into the food that was closest to him.

Conversation drifted to other topics while they ate, including Madison telling them all about her day, what she was learning in school, and how she was doing with the horses.

It wasn't until later when Madison was finally ushered to bed that the cake came out and the three of them retreated to the media room with some liquor-infused coffee.

One bite and Rodney knew Andrea hadn't been kidding. This was some seriously good cake. The kind you didn't share unless you really did like someone.

"Oh my god," he said around a mouthful. "What is in this thing?"

She grinned at him around her own bite. "The best molten chocolate cake, I think, in the world. A little private bakery near my studio makes it. It is the ultimate pleasure food."

"Wow," he said, licking the chocolate off the spoon. "I need like one of these a week…or maybe a day."

John chuckled. "It's so rich. I'd think you'd get sick of it after a few days."

"Oh no," Rodney said shaking his head. "And if I did, it would be worth it for this." He dug in for another bite, moaning as the flavors—bitter and sweet and oh so perfect—exploded on his tongue.

He glanced over in time to see John staring at him.

"What? It's good," he said around another mouthful.

The other man made a small sound. "That's... wow."

Rodney swallowed, washing it down with his coffee. "It's good."

"It's... pornographic to watch you eat that. Wow."

Rodney chuckled and licked at the spoon, his eyes on John. "And? You liked it yesterday when I did that thing…"

"Oh god..." John actually swallowed hard, and it was obvious he was turned on and trying to fight it.

Andrea, though, was staring at the two of them and turning red. Rodney just laughed and took another bite of his cake. "It's all your fault, you know."

"How was I supposed to know my peace offering would turn into a bedroom game? Sheesh."

"You get the richest most decadent dessert in the entire city. You should have known."

She laughed. "Probably. Tell you what, let me finish my cake and coffee, and then you too can run along and play."

"It's fine. We'll keep," Rodney said, sending a sidelong glance toward John.

John nodded, although Rodney noticed he had to look away and swallow a few times. "Yeah. Yeah we'll be... fine."

"So, this guy? Is he any good?" Rodney asked, leaning back in the chair. He was still relaxed from this afternoon's sex and the liquor in his coffee was loosening him up a little more.

She blushed again. "He's really sweet. We've been friends for a while, but... yeah. Now our first date is this week. I like him a lot. Sorry John, but I was using you as my excuse like you were using me as yours."

Rodney snorted. "So, John was your beard?"

"In a way, I think. Once I realized John was in love with you and started pushing him in that direction, it made me realize I really did just think of him as a friend."

"But you had sex."

She shrugged. "He's hot, can you blame me? And... for a while I thought maybe I did love him." She smiled at John. "It took me some time to realize it wasn't that kind of love."

"So the fact that I turned your lover gay is okay with you? I can't see that being okay."

"You didn't turn him gay. Honestly? I have a feeling he always was. We know how good John is at denial."

Rodney snorted again, rolling his eyes. "Oh hell yeah."

She smiled at John, who was looking a little put-out at being talked about like he wasn't there. Rodney was impressed he was managing to keep his mouth shut and let them talk. "So, I think he always was, and I think he's loved you for a long time. He just needed a wake-up call."

"It turns out he's a jealous bastard," Rodney said, offering John a soft smile.

John smiled back and finally chimed in. "I know what I want, and I'm willing to fight to keep it."

They talked for a little while longer, lingering over their coffee until Andrea finally called it a night around ten, claiming she had to get up early in the morning.

They walked her to the door, John giving her a light kiss on the cheek as she headed out. "Drive safe."

Rodney leaned against John, wrapping an arm around his waist as they watched her drive away, down the driveway and into the street, her lights fading into the distance.

John glanced over at him, pulling him closer. "I never thought I could be this happy."

"And I never took you for a closet romantic," he said, letting his body mold to John's. "Seems you have all sorts of things hidden in that Sheppard closet of yours."

"One of my best talents, it seems, is hiding things in closets."

Rodney chuckled as John closed and locked the door. "Simon going to close up shop or do you need to set the alarm?"

"Simon will do it. He and his staff will police the grounds before they officially turn on the security system."

"Just checking," he said as they slowly made their way back to their bedroom.

"So now I know whenever I make you mad at me, I can apologize with that cake, eh?"

"Maybe. Depends on what you've done. But it's a step in the right direction."

His lover chuckled. "Good to know."

Rodney offered a smile. "I didn't expect her to be so nice about me turning you gay."

"I kept telling you she didn't hate you."

"Yeah yeah yeah," Rodney said as they wandered into the bedroom.

John smiled. "I'm just glad you finally see it."

"I just had to gather the right information."

"That's my little scientist. Always needing to do the experiments himself."

Rodney snorted, heading to the bathroom. "Little?"

"You gonna prove me wrong?"

Rodney tugged off his shirt, tossing it into the hamper. John had made nice with the staff for him so it was safe to finally get his clothes washed.

John came up behind him and wrapped his arms around Rodney's waist. "Mmmm, love your shoulders."

"Apparently, that's not all you love lately."

"Don't make me spout romantic dribble. I hate myself when I do, but I can't help it around you."

Rodney chuckled. "Too late, I think."

"Drat."

"We should get ready for bed."

"Probably." John didn't move.

"Did you have something else in mind?"

"You mean other than spending every night for the rest of my life plastered to you?"

Rodney rolled his eyes. "Yes, besides that. I was referring to tonight."

"Well, after that pornographic display, I think we need some nookie."

"Nookie."

"You'd prefer I said fucking? That sounds too crude, and making love is too... girly, even for me."

"Fucking works," Rodney said, turning in John's arms. "Although that's not something we've done yet."

John shrugged. "I don't separate one act from another. Again, to call it all intimacy sounds too girly."

Rodney chuckled. "So, what do you want, John?"

"You. Always."

"Yes, well, that's a given," Rodney said, rolling his eyes. "Anything specific or am I just going to go to bed?"

John smiled. "It doesn't have to be planned. Let's just start kissing and see where it goes from there."

"Fine. We'll have it your way," Rodney said with a smirk as he disengaged from John's arms. "I first need to pee before we start any of this…" He waved his hand. "…canoodling or nookie or whatever the hell pet name you'll come up with next."

John grinned. "I'll wait for you in bed."

"You better be naked."

"Of course."

Rodney spent a few minutes in his nightly routine. He was still loose from the afternoon sex and the liquor. He climbed into the bed and turned off the light as he turned in toward John.

He had barely had a chance to do much more than turn when John was on top of him, naked skin rubbing in all the right places.

"Oh…so you're in that kind of mood."

"I was watching you do live porno in my media room, What do you think?"

"It was just cake."

"Pornographic noises."

"And you want to hear more of them, I take it?"

John rocked his hips so Rodney could feel his erection. "What do you think?"

"I think you need to get on with it," he said with a smile.

John hummed then leaned down to capture Rodney's mouth.

Rodney kissed him back, letting his hands roam his lover's body. He opened his legs a little wider to let John slide closer.

They both moaned at the contact.

They kissed and made out, leaving marks on each other's skin until they were rocking against each other, savoring each and every moan and pant. John pulled back after a time, looking down at Rodney with wide open and aroused eyes.

"What do you want?"

"You. I want you in me," he whispered. He'd always wanted it, but it was too intimate, too much sometimes. But after today, he wanted it.

John's eyes widened. "You're ready for that?"

"I've done it before, you haven't. I didn't want to rush you, either. We're supposed to be taking this on your timetable. But after what you did this afternoon…"

John's smile was almost blinding. "I want it too. I want everything with you."

"You have me."

John grabbed the lube they now kept in arms' reach. He looked at Rodney and swallowed. "You'll have to walk me through what to do. I know it's a little different from doing it with women, and I don't want to hurt you."

"Lots of lube and take your time," Rodney said as he turned over onto to his stomach. He pillowed his head on his arms and opened his legs, offering himself to John.

"Wow." There was reverence in John's tone. "God you're beautiful."

Rodney blushed. "Not getting any younger here," he said lightly.

"Mmmm." John's hand skimmed down Rodney's back, over his ass and down his legs before heading up again.

"Need my ass higher?"

"No. You're perfect. Just... tell me if I go too fast, okay?" With that, a slick finger touched Rodney's opening.

"You're good, really good," Rodney said with a sigh, spreading his legs a little further to encourage John.

He could tell John was hesitant, but it felt amazing to feel him working his way inside Rodney's body.

Rodney couldn't hold back the moans of pleasure he got as John stretched him so carefully, so reverently. He wanted…god he wanted John to just take him and fuck him. This was slow, beautiful torture.

He lost track of time as one finger became two, and then two became three. "Rodney? I... I don't think I can wait much longer..."

"Please," he groaned. "Want you…god, John, please…"

"Okay, God... I... God, Rodney..." John pulled his fingers free, but before Rodney could protest he had moved, positioning himself to actually penetrate. "I'm... let me know if you need me to stop..."

"Can I…Want to see you," Rodney said, just before John pressed in.

"Whatever you want. Just tell me."

"Face-to-face, please," Rodney said, already moving to turn over.

They shifted around until they were lined up the way Rodney wanted. And then, finally, John was pushing inside him.

"God, yeah," Rodney said, forcing himself to relax as John slid inside of him. It had been so long, but it felt so good.

"Oh. My. God." John was panting, sweat beading down his face. "This is.. oh wow..."

"Yeah…gets better…start moving…please, John…"

Breathing heavy, John nodded and started to draw out as slowly as he had pushed in.

"Yeah…." Rodney growled, linking his ankles behind John's back. "More…please..."

"Want it to last. Don't want to... come too fast..."

"Just…please…fuck me already, John…please."

"Oh god..." John's hips bucked a little.

"Come on….harder. I know you can, John."

"God... Rodney..." John broke and started to thrust, setting up a steady pace.

Rodney gave himself up to the sensations, loving what it felt like to be loved and fucked. He always preferred to bottom and every time he got a cock up his ass he remembered why.

"Come on Rodney. Want to feel you come..."

Rodney groaned and came the next time John pressed in, his body shuddering through his climax.

He felt the warmth rushing through him that told him John was coming right along with him.

He slumped into the bed, feeling sated and thoroughly fucked. Yeah. Just want he wanted.

"Wow." John fell to the side so he didn't crush Rodney, looking completely wrecked.

"Uh huh."

"That was..."

"Mmmm."

"Is it always that... wow?"

"Mmmmmmmmm," Rodney hummed, managing to get an arm around John's waist as he shifted closer. He knew he was covered with spunk, but he didn't care. He could feel it dripping out of his ass, too.

John didn't pull away though. If anything, he shifted them closer. "Perfect."

Rodney couldn't agree more.

****

The sex just got better after that night.

Honestly it had been pretty good up until then—even without the fucking part—but now it was amazing. They even found themselves sneaking away in the afternoon to fuck. It was addicting and scary at the same time.

It was during one of those afternoon delights that the unthinkable happened. Madison walked in.

They'd snuck back to their bedroom to do nasty and wicked things to each other. It was like they were caught up in the effects of some alien disease that forced them to have sex every few hours. Rodney had been on his back, John pounding into him when the door swung open wide.

"Whatcha doing?"

Rodney vaguely remembered shoving John away from him and diving under the covers.

John's voice sounded strangled. "Maddie? Ah, your uncle and I are... doing adult things right now."

"Like what?"

"Like... adult things. Go wait in your room, sweetheart, and we'll come see you in a few minutes, okay?"

Rodney felt the blankets moving. "No. I want to stay with you. Sarah's boring."

He felt John scramble. "No, sweetheart. We'll come play with you in a few minutes. Let us finish what we were doing first."

"But I want to play now." The bed dipped as Rodney felt Madison climbing up on the far side.

"No, Madison. Your uncle and I were in the middle of something. It's rude to walk in without knocking, and it's rude to expect us to stop everything to entertain you. Go wait in your room and we'll be there in a few minutes."

"What happened to your clothes?"

"Madison. Out. Now."

"I don't wanna go," Madison said. Rodney fought the urge to laugh hysterically. Only him.

"I don't care. You can go now and we'll come play with you, or you can argue with me and be punished."

"But I don't want to be punished."

"Then go wait in your room and we'll be there in a few minutes when we're done."

"But I want to play now. Where's Uncle Meredith? Is he playing hide-and-seek?"

"Madison!" John fumbled on the bed, and one of the sheets was pulled out from under Rodney. "Out. Now!"

Ow! Sheet burn! Rodney managed to keep the yelp to himself.

He heard John marching Madison across the room. "We'll see you in a few minutes, Madison."

Rodney heard the door close a few seconds later and the bed dipped again.

"She's gone."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. The door is now locked, as well."

Rodney shifted on the bed, pulling the blankets down from off of his face. He scowled up at John. "I thought it was locked the first time, too."

"I didn't think I needed to lock it!" John was bright red.

"She wanders around! She opens doors! She likes you!"

"Well, now I know. Having sex: lock door."

"Like you're going to be getting any for the foreseeable future."

"You're cutting me off?" John's look was incredulous. "Because I forgot to lock a door?"

"She walked in when your cock was up my ass!"

John turned red again. He blushed all the way down to his cock. Huh. "I don't think she really saw anything. You dove fast."

"I have good reflexes and a perfectly developed sense of self-preservation."

His lover sighed and flopped onto the bed next to him. "Wow. That was totally not something I ever expected to experience."

"No and something I never want to experience again."

"Ditto."

"So then…" Rodney glared at him. "You stay on your side of the bed, I'll stay on mine."

"We're not going to stop having sex."

"Well, you're not getting any from me for a long time."

John sighed. "Fine. Let's get cleaned up and go pay attention to Madison. I promised her we'd come play."

"You said you'd go."

"I said we'd go. She needs attention from both of us."

"I need a shower."

"Yeah, me too."

"I'll go first," Rodney said, scooting out of the bed, glancing at the door.

"We can't even shower together?"'

"Someone might walk in and I have nowhere to hide."

"The door is locked, and we'll close and lock the bathroom door."

"You're still not getting any," Rodney said as he padded into the bathroom. "You're the one who left the door unlocked."

"Come on!" John tried to follow him.

"You left the door unlocked and she walked in. She saw us fucking! That's just…no."

"I made a mistake, but it's fixed now. The door is locked. At least let me shower with you."

"You can shower, but no sex."

John grumbled, but he did keep his hands to himself as they got cleaned up.

They actually managed to have a nice night with Madison, playing board games and eating dinner together. It was oddly…domestic and something he hadn't even done with his sister when she was alive.

The next few days we more or less the same—except for the embarrassing sex thing. It was one thing for another adult to walk in on them. But a little girl—who he was supposed to be raising—was not supposed to see stuff like that at least until she was thirty.

They spent a lot of time with Madison, watching her work with the horses, helping her do things around the house, playing board games and watching television. She absolutely adored John, even worshipped the ground he walked on. Everything was "Uncle John, look at this", "Uncle John, did you see me?", "Uncle John, look what I made you". And he was so good with her.

He knew when to be strict and when to let her be. He knew just how to handle her—tears and all. It was great that John and Madison got along so well, but sometimes it just made it more difficult, too. He felt useless, ineffective—and that was an entirely new feeling for him—and he didn't like it.

John surprised him one day as they stood watching Madison ride. "Hey, I've been thinking I want to go check out the cabin on the property. Would you be interested in taking Maddie there for a few days of just the three of us?"

"You have a cabin?"

"Well, my parents did. I haven't been out there since I was a kid. I want to see how it's held up."

"Just how big is this property?"

John shrugged. "Big. The cabin is kind of remote though. My father built it so he and my Mom had a place they could get away to when they needed a break from everything. You can only get in via horseback."

"I have to ride there?" Rodney asked, looking at John with narrowed eyes.

"Yes, but if you really don't want to, we don't have to go. I can send someone to survey the property. I was just thinking it would be kind of nice to do as…as a kind of family thing."

"A family kind of thing."

John shrugged and refused to look at him.

Rodney sighed and rolled his eyes. "What?"

"What do you mean, what?"

"You obviously have something else to say on the subject. So what is it?"

John sighed and finally glanced over. "I just think of you and Madison as my family now. I guess I want to do some of the things I remember doing as a kid with you."

"And going to this…cabin is one of those things you want to do."

"I just remember, before my father and I started to have issues, all of us going down there ever summer. Mom and Dad would sit with their arms around each other and watch Dave and I play in the lake. We'd go exploring the area on horseback together..."

"Don't think we're going to be there holding onto each other as Madison plays in the germ and vermin infested lake."

John smiled. "I know it won't be exactly the same. I just thought it would be nice to go make new memories there with you guys."

"Is there running water?"

"Yes. Running water and electricity for the lights. But no phone service, no Internet, etc."

"No internet? But there is cell service."

"No. My father had dampeners installed so no signal gets through. There's an emergency phone that comes into the house in case we need it, but other than that, there's not even anywhere to plug things in."

"What!"

"I told you, it was built as a place to escape. My father knew if he had any way to communicate other than in an emergency, he wouldn't be able to help himself."

"That's just…barbaric." Rodney sniffed. No internet. No cell service.

"The cabin is meant to be a get-away. Like I said, we don't have to go if you don't want to."

"It's probably infested with bugs, too."

"It's not infested. Someone goes out once a month to check on it and make sure everything is still in working order."

"But I thought you said no one had checked on it."

"They just go out and make sure the lights still work, everything's water tight, etc. Nothing really major. No one has done a check of the grounds, really, since the last time my parents went out there."

"So all they know is that the structure is still standing."

"Pretty much. And that there are no bugs or leaks, and the lights work."

"So it could be a horrible experience, fraught with danger and physical exertion."

"Or it could be a nice long weekend with just the three of us spending time together as a family."

Rodney watched as Madison rode by again, her trainer with her, guiding her. "So. How long is this long weekend?"

"I was thinking we could head out Friday morning and come back Monday afternoon."

"And don't think this is going to be a romantic weekend—at all."

John laughed. "While I desperately miss sex with you, I didn't think so."

"It's your own fault, you know."

"Yeah, yeah."

"You should have known better," Rodney sniffed.

"I lock it every night now, even though we aren't even doing anything."

"Oh so now you lock it," Rodney rolled his eyes. "Little late for that, don't you think?" Rodney had taken to wearing long pajama pants, boxers, and a t-shirt to bed every night. He was warmer than he liked, but it was safer that way.

"How long are we going to have the no-sex rule in place?"

"Until Madison is out of the house."

"We are not having no sex until she's thirty."

"Well, no of course not. I expect she'll go to college, so maybe when she's seventeen. Sixteen if she really applies herself."

"We are not waiting that long to have sex again."

"Well, you should have thought of that before you let my six-year-old niece walk in on us when we were having sex!"

"I didn't let her! I didn't even know she would! I've never lived with kids!"

Rodney huffed. "You should have known. She's going to be scarred for life, forced to go to countless shrinks for all of her adult life because of what she saw."

"I don't even think she knows what she saw. She thought we were wrestling." John huffed. "And it's not like I went and invited her in."

"Scarred for life," Rodney repeated pushing off from the fence enclosure. "I'm going to get some stuff together."

"So you'll go?"

"What?" Rodney paused, glancing back at John. "Yeah. You apparently are desperate to get away and I'm not about ready to let you go alone."

John's smile was worth the trip, although Rodney would never tell him that.

****

Even though Rodney had been stalwart about the whole no-sex thing, two weeks after his decision he found himself desperate for the intimacy they'd had and gave in to his own desires and needs.

That first time had been mind-blowing and he briefly considered another period of abstinence if it meant really, really good make-up sex. But on second thought, Rodney knew he was far too hedonistic to go without if he could have John every day.

While John was busy trying to finish his thesis—with only six months left to the program—Rodney finally picked up the files Scarlett had left him on the new AI house John was building with Arthur.

He had said he wasn't going to look over the documents, but it was in his best interests to fix things now before John decided he wanted to import it into the main house. He picked up the phone and buzzed Scarlett.

"Yeah?"

"Two things. One: stop putting Gordon in my voicemail. I can talk to him if I want to. Two: I need the latest versions of the new house documents."

"I put him to your voicemail because you have do not disturb on your phone. And which house? The changes being made to the main house, or the plans for the guest house?"

Rodney sighed. "My phone is not on do not disturb. I'd know if it was on do not disturb. And what changes to the main house?"

"Yes it is. I can't forward live calls to you right now. Even if I try, they go directly to voicemail. As for the main house, there are plans to update the systems to make things easier for the staff. I believe John wants to start putting the foundations in place to have some of the advances being made in the guest house brought over here eventually."

"What did you do to break my phone?"

"I didn't do anything."

"Sure you didn't. I know you. You're a wily one. And I need the guest house plans."

"Forwarding them to your email now. And I didn't do anything. It's a pain, actually, since I can't even call you directly with the block on."

"Then come in here and fix what you did to it."

"I didn't touch it."

"Right. Just fix it." He hung up and turned to his computer, waiting for the files to pop into his inbox.

Five minutes later, he got a file of detailed schematics.

He printed everything and was sitting at his desk when there was a light tapping on the doorframe to his office. He glanced up, spotting Scarlett. "And you here to fix my phone?"

"No, I'm here to bring you the hard copies we don't have digital versions of."

"Oh. Good." He held out his hand. "Give them to me and then you can fix my phone."

"I didn't touch your phone. You fix whatever you did to it."

"It's your job to fix it, so fix it."

"No, it's not my job to fix things you break."

"Yes, it is."

"No. I have other things I need to do today." She headed out the door.

Rodney dug out his cell phone and called John.

"Sheppard here."

"Your assistant refuses to fix the phone she broke."

There was a brief pause. "What?"

"I told her to fix my office phone and she refused."

"What's wrong with your office phone?"

"It's obviously not working right and I don't have the patience to figure out what she did to it. It's her job. She can fix it."

"What's not working right?"

"I don't know."

"What do you mean, you don't know? What do you need her to fix then? If it's something minor, I might be able to do it for you."

"I want Scarlett to fix whatever she broke," Rodney said. "You're her boss, make it happen."

John sighed. "I'll call her and see what I can do."

"Thank you," Rodney said absently as something on the plans caught his eye. "Oh and I'll make it up to you later."

"No worries. I'll talk to you later."

They hung up, and five minutes later, his cell rang again.

"Yes, what?"

"I swear, the two of you are going to drive me to an early grave." John sounded exasperated. "You just have your do not disturb on. Why Scarlett didn't tell you how to turn it off, I have no idea. Just dial pound 532."

"Why couldn't she do that?"

"I don't know. She wouldn't tell me."

Rodney sighed and climbed to his feet. "You know, I'm a busy man. I don't need kinds of headaches."

"So am I. I have a meeting in a few minutes, so I'll talk to you later, okay?"

"Yes yes fine," Rodney said as he hung up. He punched in the code John had told him. Nothing looked like it changed on his office phone so he just shrugged and rolled his eyes. He had better things to do than play with the stupid phone.

He spent the next few weeks going over all of the papers for the new AI guest house before the official ground-breaking in between talking with Gordon on the phone and arguing with Scarlett over it. Gordon had been asking questions about some stupid property for weeks now and was getting pushier and more insistent about it. He even claimed that the Sheppards were using it for themselves and refused to give it to the University.

His office phone rang for the fifth time in an hour, with Gordon's number coming up. Maybe Scarlett had the right idea with the whole do not disturb thing.

He picked up, knowing he was going to get an earful from Scarlett in about an hour. She hated dealing with him. "Yes, what?"

"That woman who answers your phones is a real bitch."

"Get used to it because it's not going to change."

"Whatever. I need you to do me a favor. Can you pull the records the Sheppards have on that piece of property? Maybe if I know where to start, I can better formulate a proposal to purchase it from them for the University."

"I haven't ascertained that they even have it. And why do they need it anyway? They have fifteen million acres of property already. They're not the type of people to buy something out from under a University." Rodney hit save on the documents he was working on.

"Exactly. So there should be no problem convincing them to sell it to me."

"I doubt they have it in the first place. I still think you're barking up the wrong tree and a little delusional if you think that aliens are kidnapping people from this backwards town."

"Whatever. Just please look up that information and email it to me. I need it as soon as possible."

"Why? What's the big rush on this? It's a forest. There are plenty of them around."

"It's important. Please, Rodney."

"But why? I can't just go in there demanding to know about stuff that very well might be confidential. I'm living here on the good graces of my friend."

"This is important."

"But why?" Rodney asked, frustrated with his friend. "I need a damn good reason to go poking in their business information."

"The University needs that land."

"Why?"

"It's an important ecological area."

"That might be infested with aliens?" Rodney asked snidely. It had been part of a conversation he'd had with Gordon weeks ago.

"You don't understand, Rodney. This is important. I need to get that land."

"You need to get it? I thought the University needed it."

"I'm the University's agent. And this is a cause I've really taken personally. I want to do this for them."

Rodney sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "Look. I'll do what I can, but I'm not promising anything."

"I appreciate it. E-mail me whatever you can dig up."

"Don't expect anything today or tomorrow. Or even next week. I'll get to it when I can."

"The sooner you can get me that information, the better. I need to go before my superiors to give them a progress report."

"I'll get to it when I can. I have other things to do, you know, than jump every time you call."

"I know you do, Rodney. And I appreciate the help. I just... this is a big deal. I'm sorry if I've been... pushy."

"I wish you would tell me why it's such a big deal."

"That piece of property could hold the key to unlocking several of our avenues of research. We're fairly sure it does, but until we own the land and can spend time working there, we won't be sure."

"It trees!!! Lots and lots of trees!"

"The value is below the surface. Please, Rodney?"

"I'll do what I can. I already told you that, but don't expect miracles."

"I trust you, Rodney. If anyone can help me, I know it will be you."

"Yeah yeah," he said rolling his eyes. "What else do you want of my valuable time?"

"Come to dinner with me?"

Rodney sighed. "You know the answer to that already. It's a really bad idea."

"Just dinner. We'll go somewhere nice, just the two of us. We can talk about more... in-depth things than we're able to at the group meetings."

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why not?"

"You want something I'm not going to give you."

"You say that now, but give me a chance, Rodney."

"No, Gordon. I can't do that to John."

"He's just a wanna-be, Rodney. You and I, working together, as partners... we could be great."

"Gordon, we've been through this already. I'm happy right now. I really don't want to screw up anything and end up out on my ass. I have my niece I have to think about, too."

"She'll be happy if you're happy. And you wouldn't be 'out on your ass'. You'd be with me."

"Come on. You're mincing words."

"No, I'm asking you to give me a chance."

"And I'm telling you I'm happy with John."

"I could make you happier."

"You don't know that," Rodney said with a sigh.

"And neither do you. And you won't if you don't give me a shot. Have dinner with me."

"Gordon, come on."

"Just think about it. You don't have to answer right now."

"But you want an answer right now."

"I'd like one, but if you need more time to consider it, I'll wait. I'm willing to wait for you Rodney."

"Damn it, Gordon. You're like a stupid fucking siren," he said with a sigh.

"Ahh, but that means you're tempted. If you don't have dinner with me, how will you know who you should be with? Maybe I'm the man for you."

"I'm happy with John."

"Are you really happy, or do you just not know what happy could be? I don't want to see you settle."

"Scarlett says you're just trying to get into my pants," Rodney said, glancing at the open door and lowering his voice. "Is that what this whole elaborate thing is?"

"While I won't deny I want you in my bed, for now, I'll take dinner. The thing with the University is a separate thing."

Rodney was silent for a long moment, his mind spinning in ever tightening circles. What if this thing with John was just a fling thing? It had only been a few months.

"Just dinner, Rodney. That's all I ask. No strings."

"No strings."

"None."

"Just dinner. None of this…come up to my apartment later thing."

"Well, I won't object if you'd like to. But no, I won't force the issue."

"You better not," Rodney said, narrowing his eyes.

"Just dinner. You and me, a quiet evening alone."

"It better be somewhere nice. Really nice."

"I promise. Only the best for you."

"I'm supposed to go into the city for the group tonight, so it has to be tonight. Early."

"Of course. How's 4pm?"

"Five. I have stuff to do here."

"I'll make reservations for us at Jeff Ruby."

"And no citrus. The last thing I need is to end up in the hospital."

"Of course. I'll make sure they know ahead of time. I'll see you this evening, Rodney."

Rodney hung up and spent the next few minutes staring at the phone. He'd agreed to dinner with Gordon and he already felt guilty about it. Maybe he should call him back and cancel. But Jeff Ruby's was supposed to be good. Really good.

And it was just dinner.

Since Katie and John already knew he was heading into the city, he didn't have to update anyone on his change of plans. If Scarlett was looking for him, she'd see he wasn't at the coffee house, but she wasn't his keeper. He could go where he wanted.

Rodney got ready, dressing somewhat nicer than usual, before heading into the city. He was glad John was busy with the stables tonight so he hadn't run into him when he was getting ready. He wasn't sure he could lie to his lover.

When he arrived, he was led back to a table where Gordon was already waiting for him. "Rodney, nice to see you."

"Yeah, hi," he said with a nervous smile as he sat down.

Gordon didn't try to hide the fact that he was looking Rodney up and done." You look amazing."

"What this? It's just clothes," he said, shifting in his seat. "And besides, this is a business dinner."

"Mmmm, you fill out those clothes quite nicely."

Rodney felt his cheeks flush. "I've gained some weight with Katie's cooking."

"Rodney, you look stunning. Stop worrying."

"I didn't come here to look stunning," he muttered, picking up his menu.

"No, you came to have dinner with me." Gordon smiled at him.

"Yes, right, exactly. So let's have dinner." Rodney cracked open his menu. He had to order something even though his stomach was churning and he didn't want to eat a thing. He felt horrible.

Gordon ended up ordering for both of them. Under the table, Rodney felt the other man's foot sliding up his calves.

Rodney jumped in his chair and backed off. "Sorry, sorry. I thought I felt a bug or something," he said, trying to move out of Gordon's way.

Gordon chuckled softly. "Don't worry about it. And don't be so nervous. I promised, no strings. I just want to enjoy you."

"Yes, well, we might want to stick to talking."

"Mmm, yes." Gordon's foot hooked around Rodney's leg again.

Rodney jumped again. "Gordon, come on. Stop. I'm really not comfortable with this as it is. I can just leave if you'd rather have dinner by yourself."

Gordon gave him an apologetic smile. "Sorry, I just can't help myself. But I'll try to be more circumspect. Give me a chance, Rodney. Don't shut me out before we've even had the chance to get started."

"You're going to have to work around what I want and I'm not going to do anything with you when I'm with John. So just…stop. Okay?"

"We don't have to do anything, but a little bit of touching isn't against the rules, is it?"

"Right now, yes, yes, it is."

Gordon sighed. "Well, I'll just have to pine and hope by the end of the night, you'll at least let me have a little goodnight kiss."

"We'll see," Rodney said, taking a sip of his lemon-less water.

Gordon steered the conversation to less dangerous ground by picking up on a conversation they'd been having off and on about Rodney's research.

Once they got onto less personal topics, the evening went quickly and Rodney found he enjoyed himself. Gordon was funny and he knew what to do and what to say. Rodney liked him.

As they finished dessert, however, the conversation drifted back to the topics Rodney wasn't comfortable with. "So, when will I be able to see you again?"

"I don't know, Gordon. This was nice, but I can't just…do this all the time."

"Why not?"

"Because."

Gordon reached across the table to take Rodney's hand. "I like you, Rodney. And I want you. What can I do to get you to give me a fair shot?"

"Time. Understanding that I'm not just going to throw what I have with John away," Rodney said, tugging his hand free. "And I should really go."

"John was straight his whole life. Why are you willing to throw me away for him, when you don't even know if he'll wake up tomorrow and decide he doesn't like men after all?"

"I…I want whatever I can have with him," Rodney said after a few minutes. "I don't want to cut it short, either."

"I'm offering you more, Rodney. A real relationship. A real partnership. He can't give you what I can. You even admit you don't think it will last."

"I can't. Not now."

"But why? What is it about him that makes you willing to throw everything else aside for a few moments with him?"

"Because…it's complicated," Rodney said, not looking up. He wasn't about ready to admit he'd been pining for John for years already. "Look. I need to go. Thanks for the dinner." He shoved his chair back and stood.

"Rodney, wait." Gordon came around the table. "I don't understand what you see in him, but, just take this with you to think about." Before Rodney could pull away, Gordon pulled him in for a hard kiss.

Rodney moaned and for a moment let himself fall into the kiss. It took him a few more seconds to finally push Gordon away, gasping and panting with arousal and want.

Gordon gave him a satisfied smile. "He can't give you what I can, Rodney. Remember that when you're with him. Remember that kiss, and how much you wanted more."

The nausea Rodney felt at the beginning of the night quickly returned as guilt settled in to stay. He turned and left without a word, barely hanging onto that little of his poise and pride he had left. The valet pulled the car around for him and he was off, heading home and back to John.

When he got home, he found John up, sitting in bed with the television on and some of his thesis papers strung around him. "Hey. Didn't expect you to be home this early. How did it go tonight? Sorry I couldn't come, but I need to get this finished."

"Can you…I need…God, John, I'm sorry," he said, crawling onto the bed—clothes and all—scattering the papers as he reached for John.

John immediately wrapped his arms around Rodney, holding him close and pressing kisses into Rodney's hair. "It's okay. What's wrong?"

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I just…want you. Please, John," Rodney said, pawing at the shirt that covered John's body, trying to drag it over the other man's head.

Sorry? For what?" Rodney didn't give John a chance to ask any more questions, capturing his mouth and plunging in deep, needing the taste to wash away the lingering flavor of Gordon.

He wanted to forget, wanted to only feel John touching him, pressing into him, loving him. He wanted everything he could get out of him.

And even though John didn't know, he gave Rodney exactly what he needed.

John took him apart with fingers and mouth, didn't argue with him when Rodney begged to be fucked. He didn't ask, didn't question. He simply gave and gave until Rodney was trembling with the aftershocks of his pleasure and covered with come.

When it was over, and John had cleaned them both up, he crawled back into bed, pulling Rodney into his arms and just holding him close.

Rodney shifted closer, letting John envelop him in his arms and body.

"It's okay. Everything is okay."

"No, it's not. Not really," Rodney said quietly.

"Wanna talk about it?"

"I met Gordon for dinner."

"O...kay."

"I didn't mean to…well, I did, but I didn't mean for it to go as far as it did and we really were just supposed to talk business, but he wanted to do more than that."

"So what happened?"

"Scarlett was right. He wants to get into my pants, but he wants me, too. And it's really nice to be wanted and it's something I haven't really ever had and I don't know how to say no anymore than I'm already saying no but he insisted on me meeting him and he touched me and played footsie and kissed me—"

"You kissed him?" Against him, John stiffened.

"He kissed me!" Rodney protested, but quickly subsided. "But I did kiss him back. He's a good kisser! But I didn't let him do more than that."

John pulled away. "Do you want him?"

"No, God, John, no. I want you, but what if you change your mind? What then?" Rodney shifted, pushing himself up on one elbow. He reached for John, but stopped, not completing the gesture. "And I feel horrible and guilty and I didn't mean for anything to happen—and nothing really did, but I'm sorry."

John closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "I keep telling you, I'm in this for the long term, Rodney. I don't know what more you want me to say. I love you, but if you want to be with other people...I don't think I can stand to watch you with them. I was ready to kill anyone who looked at you before we were together. Now... I don't really want to go to prison."

"I'm sorry," Rodney said quietly. "I told him I was happy with you, that we can just be friends, but…I didn't encourage him. I didn't."

"Why did you go to dinner with him? Especially if you knew he thought it was a date?"

"It wasn't a date. We were just going to talk. He wants me to help him with something. I thought we could talk about it, that it would be just a business dinner thing."

John sighed. "I want to believe you, Rodney. I know you're just as clueless as I am when it comes to stuff like that. But now that you know what he wants, what are you going to do? Because if you're still planning on meeting him for... 'business dinner dates'..."

"I won't. I promise."

John sighed again. "As long as you never do anything like this again, and you never spend any time alone with him again, I'm willing to forget this happened."

"I'm so sorry."

"I know. Come here." John held out his arms.

Rodney didn't hesitate, but moved into John's arms, wrapping himself around the other man. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean for it to happen, for anything like this to happen, and I feel horrible that even a little something happened. You're like the hottest thing on the planet and I can't believe I'm stupid enough to fall for Gordon and his lines and his…things."

"Why are you so sure I'm going anywhere, Rodney? We've been together for years now, technically. The only new part is the sex."

Rodney shrugged. "You're…you and weren't gay until a few months ago. This is most likely a fling."

"Rodney." John sat up and looked him in the eye. "I might not have realized it, but I've been in love with you for years. Years. Not a few days, not a few months."

"I could just be a rebound."

"Rebound from what?"

"Andrea. Atlantis." Rodney shrugged.

"Atlantis was how many years ago? And Andrea and I were never really a couple in the traditional sense. I never felt for her what I feel for you."

"Still."

John cupped his face. "There's no still about it. You either have to trust me and be in this with no reservations, or we need to decide what to do next. I've given you all of me, Rodney. Everything."

Rodney leaned forward, pressing his lips to John. God. He wanted this so badly. He wanted to believe John, to know that this was it, but the doubts were there, always there.

John kissed him back, just as passionate.

Rodney was already sated from the fucking, but he couldn't get enough tonight. He apologized with his mouth and with his hands, loving and touching John.

John let him lead, following wherever Rodney took him.

They loved each other that night, Rodney wanting to apologize and to forget. John was his absolution and tonight it was enough.

****

And then, of course, some of the shit hit the fan. Meyers was going down for Jeannie's death. It was…shocking and amazing and overwhelming all at the same time. It was time he paid, of course, but still, hearing about it had just been…a little too much to bear.

Of course, it didn't take long for the rumor mill to start up and for Scarlett to appear at his door, scowling mad about the Gordon thing. Three days.

"What the hell were you thinking?"

"What?"

"You cheated on him!"

"No, I didn't. It was a business dinner." It was his story and he was sticking with it—at least with everyone who wasn't John.

She rolled her eyes. "And I suppose he made no moves on you, didn't try anything, and you talked nothing but business, right?"

"What do you want, Scarlett? I'm assuming it's something other than to yell at me."

She rolled her eyes. "You love him, he loves you. Don't fuck it up because you're feeling insecure. And the Arthur guy working on the guest house is here, but John is busy right now. Since you're looking over the plans, did you want to talk to him?"

"I…why? John talks to him. I don't need to."

She rolled her eyes. "All right. I figured I would ask."

"After you berated me."

She shook her head. "You two are the best things that ever happened to each other, and you're going to fuck it up because you're feeling insecure about it."

"He was straight! Straighter than straight, not that it's any of your business anyway."

"You're hung up on a label, McKay. He loves you. You love him. Just because he called himself something different before makes no difference whatsoever."

"Just…" Rodney sighed, putting his head in his hands. "It's just complicated, okay?"

"No, you're making it complicated. If you'd stop walking around expecting the world to end, you might actually find yourself happy, god forbid."

"I'm not supposed to be happy!" Rodney said, lifting his head, the words harsher than he expected. "Don't you get it? Anything I want I can never have. Something always happens to take it away from me. I want John so badly but I know that if I really admit it something will happen to take him away from me and I just can't…not after Jeannie." He shook his head. "Besides, I already screwed up other people's lives—Arthur's included. He wouldn't want to talk to me."

Scarlett walked in and gave him a light punch on the arm. "Stop it. You're allowed to be happy, but you've been hurt before so you're trying to protect yourself. I get it. But at the same time, that kind of thinking becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy. You think you'll lose him, so you act as if you've lost him, then one day you look up and realize he left because you treated him badly. Then you tell yourself, see, I knew it would happen. But if you had stopped treating him like he was going to leave, he wouldn't have left in the first place."

"Least John's getting sex again. He shouldn't be complaining about that."

"Idiot. He doesn't just want sex from you. He loves you."

"So he says."

She shook her head again. "I can't make you believe it. I know what I see, but if you're determined to destroy the best thing in your life, fine. I won't try to stop you anymore."

"Yeah, right," he muttered under his breath. "Did you at least look up the stuff I asked you too about that property? I'm just trying to get something nailed down about it."

"Other than the fact that Sheppard Industries owns it, and it was purchased by Dave, nothing. It's all under lock and key. I can hack the systems, but since John is paying me, I figured that was bad form."

"I…yeah. Hold off on that. I need to talk to Dave about it I guess."

"Probably."

"Thanks," Rodney said, going back to his equations, his thoughts though, kept wandering to John and Arthur and Gordon.

After a while, he managed to get completely taken by surprise when John popped his head in the lab. "Rodney?"

"Yeah, what?" he said, lifting his head. He found himself staring right at Arthur. God, he looked different, but he'd still recognize him anywhere. "Oh…hi."

"I know you guys know each other, so I won't bother with introductions. Rodney, I gave Arthur your notes, and he was very interested in talking to you about them and getting your opinions."

Rodney managed to tear his eyes away from Arthur to look at John, trying to process what he'd just said. "You…ah…what?"

"The AI for the guest house. You had mentioned some flaws and concerns you had with it, and Arthur wanted to go over them with you and hear your reasoning behind them before he makes any decisions about re-writing code or anything. Is that okay?"

"Ah…sure, that's…ah fine." Rodney nodded and shot a quick glance around the room. He had so much stuff out that was classified…. "Ah…maybe we should go to an office or the dining room or something."

"Up to you. If you want to use the office across from mine, it's empty now that Dave's not based here anymore, and it's still set up for anything you might need."

"Okay. Right. Good." God. He nodded again, wringing his hands. Maybe Arthur wouldn't kill him for ruining his life. Maybe. At least there would be witnesses.

John led the procession to the office Dave had used. When they passed Scarlett's office, she raised an eyebrow at him. John gestured them in. "I'll be across the hall if you need me for anything."

"Right," Rodney said, watching as John walked out, leaving the door open. He took a breath and turned to Arthur. "So. You're working with John."

Arthur nodded, not looking Rodney in the eye.

"Do you want to sit?"

"I…okay." Arthur sat on the edge of the chair.

"Look. You don't have to stay. John just…" He sighed, sitting down on the other side of the desk. "Actually, I don't know what John was thinking. Maybe he was just trying to make us talk to each other, but twenty years is a long time."

"I'm sorry!" Arthur blurted it out. "I didn't mean to ruin your life!"

"What? What are you talking about? My father was the one who ruined your life because he caught you fucking me."

"And because you got into bed with me, your whole life was ruined." Arthur finally looked up, miserable. "I know you hate me, but please, I need this work. John Sheppard is the only one who would take a chance on me."

Rodney was quiet for a long moment, trying to process everything. "I don't hate you," he finally said. "I thought you hated me. I kept an eye on you, helped you when I could, but…" He shrugged. "I'm just glad he didn't press charges on you."

"No, no, it was all my fault. It's always my fault."

Rodney shook his head. "No, no it wasn't. It was all my fault. I should have known better, should have known my father had me on a short leash."

Arthur just kept shaking his head. "All my fault. I ruined you. Ruined your career. All my fault."

Rodney reached out, putting a hand on Arthurs' arm. "Hey. It's not your fault. Okay?"

Arthur really looked unhappy. "I ruined you. Destroyed your career before it ever got started."

"No. All my work has been classified."

The other man blinked. "So I didn't completely ruin your whole life?"

Rodney shook his head. "No. It's most likely the other way around if you want to be honest."

"Are you sure you're not just being nice to me so you can steal my work and publish it as your own? You don't want to get revenge on me?"

"No, I don't want to get revenge on you." Rodney shook his head. "You're still paranoid, I see."

"Because it's happened before. They were nice to me, and bought me dinner and we looked at my notes, and they said they'd be in touch. But then they published it all under their name, and no one believed me that it was mine. So I'd appreciate it if you didn't do that, even if you do deserve to get revenge. Could you maybe do it another way instead?"

"John's not like that. I'm not either. I actually don't work for Sheppard Industries at all."

"I didn't think they were, either. And I'm finally getting to build my house. My AI house. And it's been my dream, but no one would take a chance on my ideas. They said it was crazy. You're sure you're not going to steal it?"

"John only wanted me to look at it because if it works the way you say it's supposed to, he wants to import it into this house—and I won't live in something I didn't look at. I need my own reassurance."

"That's what he said."

"He who?"

"John Sheppard."

"John's a good guy. I trust him with my life."

Arthur shook his head. "I know he doesn't like me. No one likes me."

"He likes you. He wouldn't do business with you if he didn't. He's funny like that."

Arthur shook his head again. "No, no, he just wants to see if my idea works. Do you think Sheppard Industries will steal my idea when I prove it works?"

"No, I don't. Not at all. I trust John Sheppard with my life and my life's work. He's…" Rodney chuckled quietly. "I was going to say he was my hero, and in a way, I guess he is. He's managed to save me from myself. I'm not surprised he can do it for other people, too."

Arthur blinked at him. "Did he save you?"

"In more ways than you know," Rodney said quietly, nodding his head.

"Good." Arthur fidgeted in the seat. "He talks about you a lot."

"Does he?"

"Yes."

"Why would he do that? Aren't you talking about work-related stuff?"

"Yes. But he compares everyone to you."

"Well," Rodney said, shifting in his chair. "I am a genius, but that doesn't mean he should do that."

"He does."

"Well, that's not fair to you."

"It's okay. He's very complimentary about it."

"Still. It isn't fair to you to be compared to someone with my IQ," Rodney said with a shrug. "So, are you sure you're not going to try to kill me or poison me?"

Arthur looked startled. "Why would I do that?"

"Because my father is a prick and an asshole and tried to ruin you."

"But it was my fault."

"No, it wasn't."

"Yes it was."

Rodney shook his head and sighed. "Really, it wasn't. I went into it with open eyes. I just didn't think my father was that much of a prick about my sex life."

Arthur shifted around in his seat, looking uncomfortable.

"You weren't doing anything that I hadn't asked for—repeatedly and at quite a loud volume, from what I remember of that night."

"Um, okay."

"Am I remembering it incorrectly?"

"Yes."

Rodney sighed and looked at Arthur. "I do remember you were much more talkative before."

Arthur shrugged, and hugged himself. "I don't want you to hit me if I say too much."

"I'm not going to hit you," Rodney said, a little exasperated.

"Okay. Thank you."

Rodney let his head bang against the top of the desk.

"That looks like it hurts."

"It hurts less than this awkward conversation."

"Oh. Sorry?"

"Would you please stop apologizing?"

"Um. Okay. Ah…sorry?"

Rodney sighed again. "You were never like this before."

Arthur shifted around again. "I can't trust anyone. Every time I do, they steal my work."

"Then why bother doing anything? You have to go out on a limb sometimes and John Sheppard is the most trustworthy person I know. You couldn't have chosen better."

"I... know. That's why I'm here."

"So…what's the problem then?"

Arthur shrugged. "I don't know what you want."

"John shoved us in here to talk."

"I know."

"So talk!"

Arthur blinked. "Isn't that what we're doing?"

"Technically, yes, I suppose we are talking, but it's more pointless than anything." Rodney made a face. "If you don't want to talk to me I can go back to my office and go back to work."

"So you do hate me." Arthur gave him a kicked puppy look.

"No, I just don't see the point of sitting here if we're not actually going to talk about anything."

"But we are talking."

"Barely."

"I'm sorry I'm not... better." Arthur looked mournful again. "I'm trying."

"We used to talk all the time—back in college. We were never at a loss for words."

Arthur finally gave Rodney a small smile. "That was a lot of fun, wasn't it?"

Rodney nodded. "We were a lot younger then—and insatiable in more ways than one." He smirked.

Arthur ducked his head, but Rodney caught a little blush. "I'm glad it happened."

"Me, too. Well, not the last part of it, but the stuff before. We were good."

"Yeah. It was inspiring. I'd... maybe we could try working together again, sometime."

"On work-stuff, yes. Not the other part."

Arthur shook his head. "No. Yes. That's what I meant. I mean, Mister Sheppard has been very nice. I wouldn't want to do that to him."

"Yeah," Rodney said, rubbing the back of his neck as he made a face. "He's forgiving but only up to a point."

"So work stuff only. Like the AI project. I…if you have suggestions, I'll take a look at them."

"I made notes already," Rodney said. "Use what you want."

"Okay. I... thank you. And... when it comes time... if Mister Sheppard decides to bring it over here.... I can make more modifications for you."

Rodney nodded. "There will have to be."

"Yes. I..." Arthur finally looked up, and actually looked Rodney in the eye. "This is important to me. I want it to work. I want to prove this concept is sound."

"It is. From what I saw on paper, it is."

"But I need the working model to get the kinks out. I want the house to be... I want everyone to talk about it."

"They will. Even without the tweaks I suggested, people will be talking. It's everything you dreamt about years ago."

"This is my life. It's everything I've tried to do since we graduated."

"It's good, Arthur. It is. And I don't compliment lightly—just ask any of the scientists who worked for me."

That got him another shy smile. "I already have ideas for a phase two, if Mister Sheppard approves it once this house is done."

"If it goes as well as I think it will, you can bet on it."

Arthur's smile got a little bigger before he ducked his head again.

They talked about the project, about what Arthur had been up to, going round and round until John poked his head in later—and then Arthur was off in a flash, late for something as usual.

When he walked into the dining room to find Dave and Charlotte there, Rodney knew things were going to go downhill fast. He had something to ask Dave, things he wasn't going to be happy with. Rodney just wasn't ready for how much…hatred there was directed at him.

Vaguely he knew Dave and Charlotte didn't like him for turning his brother gay, but he just hadn't been expecting the viciousness of it and just how far Dave had searched into his background. He'd done a lot of things for lots of people over the years when he was first trying to make his way. He wasn't proud of a lot of it, too, but he never did anything to hurt anyone. He drew the line at that.

But it wasn't pretty and just the thing that would send John running to the hills so he wasn't involved or tainted by what he was and what he'd done.

Even though he was freaking out inside, he took John to bed that night, loving him to make him forget the pain his brother had caused him. But Rodney also remembered that it was all his fault.

The next day, Rodney pulled up his own file—the complete one. John had the right to know everything. You couldn't make a decision based on partial evidence. As a scientist, he knew that well.

It took him a while to get everything and download it to a flash drive. With a heavy heart he walked down the hall to John's office, tapping on the doorjamb.

John looked up, looking tired, but he immediately smiled. "Hey."

"Hey," he said quietly, stepping inside. He paused for a moment in front of John's desk, not looking at him, before extending his hand and the flash drive. "I think you need to see this."

"What is it?" John took the drive.

"My file. As complete as I can find, which means that it's probably even more than what Dave has. You have the right to see it."

"Rodney... I'll read it if you want me to, but I really don't need to. I know you, and I love you, and that's more important to me than anything you may or may not have done in the past."

"You deserve to know what I've done. I read yours a long time ago—actually as soon as you lit up the Ancient outpost," Rodney said, glancing up at John and offering a sad smile. "You might change your mind."

"I won't. But if it will reassure you to have me read it, I will."

Rodney let out a brief, bitter laugh. "I'd rather it never see the light of day, but you deserve to know who I am, John. I'm not proud of some of the things I did, but if I had to go back now and do it all again, I can't say I'd make a different decision." He shrugged. "I'll let you read through all of that."

"You know I've done things I'm not proud of either. I was special ops, Rodney. That means I was occasionally sent in to assassinate people. Sometimes innocent people."

"I'm going to let you read that," Rodney said, gesturing vaguely with his hand as he headed for the door. "I'll be around somewhere if you have questions. If you need me to pack, I can do that, too. I'll ask Scarlett to find me something in the city so I don't have to uproot Madison again."

"I'm not going to ask you to pack." John rolled his eyes. "Go worry somewhere, since I know I can't stop you, and I'll come find you when I've read it all, okay?"

"Don't make any decisions until you read it. You might change your mind."

"And I might not. So stop assuming the worst about me."

Rodney didn't answer as he wandered out of John's office, his feet leading him to one of his bad habits—vodka. He poured himself a shot and quickly downed it, the liquid burning a trail inside. Ever since Russia, he could handle more of the liquor and it had served him well there—giving him a warm place to drown his sorrows and his failures.

He eventually ended up in the private media room near their bedroom—glass and bottle in hand.

John wandered in about two hours later. He walked right over, leaned down, and kissed Rodney hard.

Rodney squawked in surprise.

"I read the whole thing, cover to cover. And I. Don't. Care. We've both done things that other people might turn their noses up at. But that's part of the life we lived. It changes nothing."

"I did it for other governments! I don't know how you can trust me after knowing that."

"So? We lived in another galaxy, Rodney. We fought aliens. At the end of the day, the rest just ceases to be as important."

"I don't know how you can be so…forgiving," Rodney said as John slid down to sit next to him and half on top of him.

"How can you? You've read my file. I've killed, Rodney. Taken the lives of not just a few people, but hundreds. More than that if you count some of the decisions I made on Atlantis, and a hell of a lot more when you take into account I'm the one who woke the Wraith early. I'm a murderer."

"No, you're not."

"And you're not whatever label you've tried to paint yourself as." John pulled him in for another kiss.

Rodney let him, the alcohol, stress, and lack of real food making him more than a little pliant. He wanted to be loved, cared for, but he never thought he could—not after what he'd done and who he was.

"I love you, Rodney. You're not getting rid of me."

Rodney pressed his forehead into John's shoulder, hanging onto him. Damn the Vodka for making him hormonal.

John just put his arms around him and held him close.

"I think I'm drunk again," Rodney said quietly a few minutes later, the words a little more slurred than usual.

"Then we should get you something to eat, some water, and to bed so you can take a nap."

"Don't want to nap," Rodney said, letting John pull him to his unsteady feet. Yeah. One shot too many for him. "Want you." He poked John in the chest and almost sent himself back to the couch in a pile.

"I was planning to nap with you."

Rodney hummed. "No napping."

"As long as you eat something and drink a glass of water, we'll talk."

Rodney blinked up at John. "You don't hate me?"

"I really don't. I love you."

"Even after everything?"

"That only makes me love you more."

Rodney snorted. "You're a romantic, you know that? You like fixing people. The hero who swoops in and saves the princess."

"So does that make you the princess?" John had pulled him to his feet and was leading him to their bedroom.

"I'm not a girl—although your sister-in-law would prefer if I was." He blinked twice, a weird thought coming to mind. "Don't let her get near me with scissors or a knife or anything."

"No worries there. I will protect your bits with my life."

"Mmm, you better," Rodney said as John pressed him into the bed—their bed.

"I will. Cross my heart."

John left him on the bed as he headed for the door. "Where are you going?"

"To get some food. I'll be right back."

"Oh okay. That's good. I think I left my drink in the other room." Rodney rolled over toward the edge of the bed.

"I'm getting you something to drink, too."

"I had a drink already."

"I'm getting you a different one."

"But the one I had was good," he said, pushing himself up into a seated position on the bed.

John came back over and handed him a glass. "You're going to drink this one instead."

Rodney glanced down at the glass in his hand. He lifted it and sniffed it. "What is it?"

"Water."

"Oh." Rodney stared at it for a minute before looking up at John. "But I don't want water."

"Too bad." John cupped his face. "You probably had too much to drink on an empty stomach. You need to drink that, and I have Simon bringing up a tray of food."

Rodney hummed and closed his eyes, leaning into John. "You're not going to kick me out?"

"Nope. In fact, have you noticed that you live in this room now? I've been slowly moving all your stuff over here the past few months."

"You have been?" Rodney asked, opening his eyes again to look up at John. He was so pretty. So hot. "You're pretty."

John chuckled. "And you're the sexiest thing on two legs."

Rodney glanced down. "But I'm sitting on your bed."

"Same difference."

"I'm not on two legs. I'm on a bed. Are you coming to bed?" Rodney blinked up at him. "Are you sure you're not going to throw me out?"

"I'm sure. And I'll come to bed as soon as the food gets here."

"You got food for me?"

"I did."

"You're really nice to me."

"Because I love you."

Rodney blinked up at John, smiling at him. "You do, don't you?"

"I really do." John leaned down and kissed him softly.

Rodney hummed into the kiss, pressing up into John. He tasted wonderful. Rodney moved to wrap his hands around John but then suddenly he was jumping back away from him.

"Hey!" Rodney complained, the now empty cup waving in the air.

"Food's here. Be right back."

"Come back! I wasn't done."

"I'll be right back."

Rodney watched John walk across the room for a few moments before turning back to the empty cup in his hand. There used to be something in it. Maybe.

John was back a few minutes later, this time with a tray of food, and no shirt.

"Oooo. You're hairy."

"Yes, I am." John smiled.

"I like you like this, with no shirt. Maybe I should do that, too." Rodney quickly managed to pull off his shirt.

"I like you without a shirt, too, but before we take anything else off, I need you to eat for me."

Rodney turned, glancing back up at John. "Why?"  
"Because it's important."

"But my pants might get dirty."

"Nothing here can spill."

"How can you be sure?"

"I just am."

"Are you sure you're not going to kick me out?" For some reason, that question was really important to him.

"I'm sure."

"But I'm not as nice as you are," Rodney said as John sat down next to him on the bed, the tray safely on the table.

"I love you just the way you are."

Rodney tilted his head to the side. "Isn't that a song? Are you going to sing to me?"

"Trust me, we'll both be happier if I don't sing."

"But why?"

"I'm bad at it."

"I don't think so," Rodney said, leaning into John. "You smell good, too."

"Why thank you." John held something up to Rodney's mouth, not moving his hand until Rodney had opened his mouth.

"What is—" is all he got out before something was shoved inside.

"Eat."

Rodney chewed, swallowing it down—whatever it was. "What is it?"

"Cheese. Here's another piece."

He managed to get out "Didn't taste like cheese," before John jammed another piece in his mouth.

Over the next little while, John kept putting food in Rodney's mouth, and answering his questions. It wasn't until it was getting dark out and he started to sober up that everything really started to sink in.

"So," Rodney said quietly, as he laid—finally naked—curled up with John. "You were actually telling the truth about the whole…not throwing me out thing."

John kissed his forehead. "I was."

"Even after you read everything."

"I love you, Rodney." John looked him in the eye. "I'm not going anywhere. Ever. Nothing you can say or do short of, like, trying to kill me, will make me leave you."

Rodney held his gaze for as long as he could before finally ducking his head, pressing himself closer to John.

John seemed to know what he needed, and just held him close.

After a while, Rodney started teasing the skin at John's collarbone with his lips and teeth and tongue, wanting more, wanting John to make him forget.

John gave as good as he got, being just as gentle, with so much love, Rodney couldn't deny it.

"Fuck me," Rodney whispered at some point, wanting to feel John inside of him.

"Anything you need."

"You…all of you…please."

John rolled them over, and pulled away long enough to grab the lube.

Rodney just watched him, semi-sober and throbbing with need and want.

He got them both arranged to his liking, then John was pushing inside Rodney with almost no prep. He needed to feel the burn.

Rodney arched into John, feeling him slide in deeper as Rodney relaxed around him. "Good…so good…please…"

"I've got you. Just let go. I'm here."

"Need you…god, please…"

"I'm here."

"Please, John…please…"

John drew out slowly a few times, until Rodney was ready to start sobbing. Finally, his lover started to fuck him in earnest.

Rodney just opened his legs wider and let John fuck him, let him push him higher and higher.

When he came, John was right behind him. They both screamed their release together before John fell to the side, keeping Rodney against him.

Rodney panted loudly into John's damp shoulder, clutching onto him.

John just held on to him, breathing heavy and still quaking with aftershocks.

Rodney fell asleep—or passed out—not long after, only to wake up at some point the next morning still entwined with John. He'd been shifted to a more comfortable position, but John hadn't let him go, had spent the entire night holding him close.

He had read the file. The whole file. And had not only not tossed Rodney out, he had come back and loved him. All night.

The ache in the center of his chest deepened for a moment and he shifted, turning in toward John again, burying his face into the crook of John's neck, and simply breathing as he tried to catch his breath once again.

"Mmmph?"

Rodney just shook his head—his pounding head if he took the time to take stock of it—and held on tighter.

"Hey." John twisted a little so he could wrap his arms around Rodney. "Hey, it's okay."

John smelled like sex and John and it felt like home and stability and everything he never thought he could have. And it scared him.

"It's okay. I don't know what's going on in your head, but I'm here, and it will be okay."

"Love you," Rodney whispered against John's skin.

"Love you, too."

"I know."

Lips pressed against Rodney's temple.

They stayed like that—pressed together—until John's phone started buzzing on the bedside table.

"Damn it. I should get that."

Rodney nodded, releasing his death-grip on John and rolling over onto his side, his back to John, as he curled into himself a little.

A few minutes later, John was back. "That was Scarlett. I told her to handle anything that comes up, and I'd be down later."

"You can go if you need to."

"I need to be here."

"I'll be okay."

"You're not okay. I'll be here for as long as you need me to be."

"You have stuff to do," he protested. He didn't want to send John away, but his extended freak out would be better done alone.

"You're more important than any of it."

"I'm hung-over and freaking a little. Nothing to see here."

John pulled him into his arms again. "I love you."

"I know and I can't believe you still do after everything. It's just…not what I was expecting."

John kissed him softly. "I know you keep expecting me to leave, or change my mind. But that's not going to happen. I'm not going anywhere, Rodney."

"I'm slowly understanding that part."

John smiled. "Good."

Rodney chuckled quietly. "No one else said I didn't fully research a subject before coming to a conclusion."

That got a chuckle out of John. "This is very true. So do you finally trust your conclusions?"

"I'm getting there."

"Whatever you need to convince you I'm here for the long haul, I'll do it."

"Nothing. It's all me. I just have to work everything out in my head."

"Okay."

John's phone rang again and he sighed against the back of Rodney's neck. "You can work if you need to."

"I don't want to leave you if you're going to be driving yourself to drink again."

"I don't…I won't. I don't drink often."

"I know, but lately you've been doing it a lot."

"No, I'm not."

John shrugged. "You've been under a lot of stress lately, but it's not something I'm worried about."

"You think I drink too much."

"Don't put words in my mouth. I think lately you've been using vodka as a way to disconnect a bit. But no, in general I don't think you drink too much."

"You wouldn't have mentioned it if you didn't think it."

"Forget it. I'm sorry I said anything."

"No, I'm not going to forget that you think I'm an alcoholic," Rodney said, trying to shift away from John, but he wouldn't let him.

"Stop it. I didn't say that, and you're doing it again. You keep trying to make me out to be the bad guy. I just want to love you, Rodney."

Rodney expelled a long breath and slumped into the mattress. It was a few minutes before he responded. "I know I drink too much."

"You've been under a lot of stress lately, and it's been a hard year. It's understandable."

"It's not just this year."

John shrugged. "If it bothers you, we can work on cutting it back."

"It just…it was the only thing to make my mind stop working."

"I know. It's okay." John hugged him tight. "But now, we can find other ways to help you shut down when you need it."

"Sex has been helpful in that regard," Rodney said after a few minutes.

"Well, I would hope so." John chuckled.

"Yes, you're doing a good job with that," Rodney said, shoving against John. "And look at you fishing for a compliment while I hover on the edge of a horrible life-changing freak-out."

John gave him a small grin. "Made you smile though."

"Idiot."

"Your idiot."

"Apparently."

"Always."

Rodney snorted, pressing back into John's body as he let his hands cover John's where they were resting against his stomach. "I'll do whatever you want me to do about the vodka thing."

"I'd say just cut back. Maybe only have a drink if we're having one together?"

Rodney nodded. "I know it's a problem. It's been my crutch. I know that."

"Okay. So we'll fix it. Together. You're not alone, Rodney. I'll be here watching your six."

"You just have a thing with my ass."

"I have a thing with you."

"And my ass. An obsession with it."

"Maybe." John wiggled his eyebrows.

Rodney snorted again. "You know, there are some things you can do to my ass to make it feel better."

"Oh?"

"I think you can come up with something," Rodney said rocking back into John's semi-interested dick. "You're good like that and my head is still dealing with the residual freak-out."

"Mmmm, I get to be creative?"

"Of course. You like reading your smut books too much for you not to be."

"It's not smut. It's research."

"Whatever you call it," Rodney said, rolling his eyes. "Just…get on it with it already."

Laughing, John rolled him over.

Rodney went with it, pillowing his head on his arms.

"Mmmm, I can work with this." A hand skimmed over Rodney's ass.

Rodney pressed up into John's hand. "I hope so."

"Such a perfect ass."

"I told you that you had a thing with my ass."

"I didn't deny it."

"No, you didn't."

"Mmmm." Lips were suddenly pressed against each cheek. "So perfect."

Rodney shivered a little. "Quite the handful if you ask me."

John squeezed each cheek. "A perfect handful."

Rodney gasped, holding himself back from pushing back into John's hands.

John proceeded to worship Rodney's ass for the next ten minutes.

Between the caresses and the kisses and licks and nips and bites—bites!—Rodney was in heaven. He hardened almost to a painful point as John played with his ass—just his ass. He showed his love and his humor and his playfulness.

"God, I could do this all day."

"Oh, god," Rodney moaned, shuddering at the thought.

"One of these days, we're going to lock ourselves in for a weekend and do wicked things to each other for two whole days straight."

"Please," he whispered, not even sure what he was asking for.

"Just let go and let me love you."

"Yes, God, please, yes…" he panted, pushing up into John's touch, his body one big nerve.

Humming, John went back to using his hands and lips on Rodney's body, this time expanding his ministrations to everything he had access to.

And Rodney let himself fall, let himself feel. John—his John—would take care of everything.

****

Things settled down—mostly—over the next few weeks. Rodney was still hip-deep in equations for power sources and was getting frustrated when he wasn't making much progress.

When his office phone rang one afternoon, he welcomed it as a good way to take a break before he started smashing things.

"McKay," he asked as he hit save on the document he was working on.

"Hello, Rodney."

Rodney's head jerked up. "Gordon." He looked around, almost expecting him to jump out from behind a file cabinet. He could tell the man was on his cell phone.

"I need to talk to you."

"So talk."

"In person. I swear, this is business. I need your help."

"Gordon, we've been through this."

"Yes, you're in love with John and I have no shot. This is about a parcel of land the University wants to purchase that your boyfriend bought out from under them. I need your help to get them to sell it to us."

"We've been through this already. I don't know anything."

"Please, Rodney. Come meet me at the coffee shop. Let me make my case to you for help."

"Gordon, the last time you convinced me to meet you it went downhill real fast."

"I swear I won't try anything. I won't even attempt to touch you."

"Right," Rodney said, putting as much distain into his voice as possible.

"An hour, that's all I ask. We'll be in the coffee shop where you know most of the wait staff, and out in the open."

Rodney sighed. "Can't we just do this over the phone?"

"Please, Rodney. Just meet me for an hour."

Rodney rubbed a hand over his face. "Will this be the last time you ask?"

"Yes. I promise."

Rodney hesitated for a long moment, trying to make up his own mind. He felt like he owed Gordon something—he'd managed to get John to see the light of day when it came to their relationship. "It'll take me at least an hour to get there."

"I'll be there. In the usual spot where the group meets."

"Okay fine," Rodney said as he hung up.

He took a breath and dialed John.

"Sheppard."

Rodney heard the echo immediately. "Hello? Am I on speaker? You know I hate speaker."

The sound of John picking up the phone followed immediately. "Sorry, I've been back and forth with Scarlett, and I thought this was her. What's up?"

Rodney cringed, but went for it. "I'm running downtown. Wanted to let you know."

"Oh? Anything exciting?"

"Ah…Gordon asked to talk to me face-to-face so I'm meeting him at the coffee shop."

The tone of John's voice changed immediately. "What? Why? You know he's up to something. And we're doing some digging on the University site you wanted me to look at. No buyer name is listed in the public documents, so Scarlett is trying to get more information."

Rodney tried not to be defensive at John's tone. He did, but he also knew it probably didn't work so well. "He wanted to talk. Nothing is going to happen."

He could almost hear John counting to himself in the long pause. "Are you sure about this? I won't stop you, but are you positive you don't want me to come and wait in the car, just in case? I know you think I'm biased and paranoid, but I just can't shake the feeling that he's up to something."

"You are biased, paranoid, and possessive. But that's a different conversation entirely," Rodney said, trying not to be angry at John's tone, but after last time…

"I can't help it when it comes to you. But seriously.... something about him just raises my instincts. He reminds me of the natives who offered us smiles and trade agreements until we got into the village, where we were promptly taken prisoner and set up as sacrifices."

"He's not like that." Please believe me. Please trust me, Rodney added silently.

"I know you keep saying that, and I am trying to get past it, but... I'm just worried." John paused again. "Do me a favor and call me when you get there, before you head in? And again when you leave? I'll wait to panic or do anything rash until I don't hear from you an hour after you get there."

"I'll call," Rodney said rolling his eyes.

"You can mock me tonight, and I'll give you a fantastic blow job to make up for my paranoia, but it will make me feel better."

"I want more than a blow job," Rodney said, trying to lighten his tone.

"Deal. I'll do whatever you want." He could tell John was at least trying to not be the Neanderthal he so obviously wanted to be.

"Surprise me, but I expect to be wowed." Rodney smiled, hoping it translated over the phone.

"Mmmm, I can do that. Be safe."

"It's Louisville. What could happen? I'll talk to you when I get there."

"All right. Love you."

"Love you," Rodney hung up and took a deep breath. He grabbed his cell and headed to the garage to get his car and head downtown.

When he arrived he called John, and got another "be safe" and "I love you" before he headed into the cafe.

Rodney spotted Gordon at the back of the shop and headed toward him, picking his way through the chairs, couches, and tables. "Hey."

Gordon smiled and stood up. "Rodney, I'm glad you came."

"I'm here," he said, briskly. "What did you want?"

Gordon gestured to an empty chair. "Have a seat."

Rodney glanced around and took the chair on the other side of the small table.

Gordon sighed. "I'm not going to try anything. Really. I just... I need your help. That land is important."

"So talk. I'm good here. I can hear you just fine."

Gordon leaned forward. "We've traced back the land for several generations now, and it's a powerful place. We can't allow anyone to build on it. That would be disastrous."

"We?" Rodney raised an eyebrow. "Who's this we?"

"All of us." Gordon waved his hand. "The site was sacred. There are burial grounds all around it."

"Sacred." Rodney tries to resist the urge he has to push his chair a few inches back.

Gordon nodded. "Any building that has been put on it has met an unfortunate end. And any person who tried to live or work there, met a bad end as well. The land isn't meant to be built up."

"So why do you want it for the University? They're just going to build on it."

"So we can preserve it. If we set it aside as a reserve, we can keep it safe."

"If you're so convinced the Sheppards have it, then talk to them about setting it up as a reserve."

"I've tried to. They've turned me away and played stupid." Gordon sighed. "Please, help me find a way to save this land."

"It's just land," Rodney said, trying not to let his exasperation bleed into his words.

"No, it's not. I can show you, if you'll let me."

"Why? It's just trees and dirt and grass," he stood up and rolled his eyes. "This is pointless. I don't know why I even came here."

"Please. This is really important, Rodney. If you don't want to go out there, we don't have to, but it's more than just a forest."

"Right. Like I said, a waste of time," Rodney said shaking his head as he headed out the door and toward his car. He'd snagged a good spot, too, a block away. This was a waste of time. He'd tossed his phone into the car, letting it land on the passenger seat.

Gordon ran up behind him, but true to his word from before, he didn't lay a hand on Rodney. "Please, Rodney. Come with me. Let me show you why this place is important. You're a scientist, let me give you all the facts before you make a decision."

"How do you really think you're going to change my mind? You're trying to convince me that this is some sacred place and that maybe aliens might like it. Come on, Gordon. Even you have to know you sound crazy."

"I do know, and I wish I could give you a better explanation than the truth. Let me show you some of the findings I'm basing my theories on. Then you'll understand."

Rodney sighed, closing his eyes and counting to ten. Gordon was still standing there when he opened them.

"That's all I ask. Come out there, let me show you. If you still think it's a waste of your time, I won't bother you with it again."

"Fine," Rodney said. "Where do you need me to go?"

"Come with me. I can take you there. There's not really any parking, so it will be easier with one car."

"Two cars is only one more than one."

"I'm not going to kidnap you or anything." Gordon rolled his eyes. "I'm parked over here."

"Right," Rodney said, but closed and locked his car as he followed Gordon down the street to his car. He reached into his pocket to pull out his phone and realized he'd tossed it into his car. "I need to get my phone."

"We won't be gone long, and reception is spotty up there." Gordon opened the driver side door. "I'll let you use mine if you really need one."

"But John—"

"Will be fine. He's working, right? I doubt he'll even try to call you."

Rodney glanced back at his car and sighed. "Fine," he said, climbing into Gordon's car.

It took about a half hour to get out to the site, and they were in the middle of nowhere. Literally. Gordon stopped the car and got out. "This way."

"Are you sure you know where you're going and you're not just leading me to a remote spot where you can hide my dead body?"

"No, I'm taking you to one of the larger burial sites."

"You mean my burial site," he muttered, but followed Gordon anyway.

Gordon led him to an area that had some grave markers poking out of the undergrowth. "This is the largest site we've found so far."

"That's nice, but what does it have to do with anything?"

Gordon knelt down and carefully pulled away some of the brush around one of the stones. He pointed to a script that was not English. In fact... it looked a little like Ancient. "See this here? I've compared it to all the known languages on Earth, and there isn't one match."

"It's probably just some stupid scribe or something. What does it matter?"

"This language is completely new. And it's found on the grave markers all over this area. And only in this area. Don't you see? This is the proof that something more is out there. I just need the time to study it, and perhaps exhume a few of these sites?

Rodney rolled his eyes, trying not to give anything more away. "It's a grave, I get that. But who's to say its sacred or special or anything else? Whoever's buried here is long since dead and it really doesn't matter."

"One, because this was never recognized as a burial site. None of the sites in this parcel of land were. I can find no records of anyone who died whose grave isn't accounted for. So who is buried here? And by whom? And why here, and not in one of the graveyards of the period?"

Rodney wanted to bang his head against the nearest tree, but it wasn't going to help matters. He paced a few feet in each direction, needing to move, to walk, and to do something. "I don't know and honestly, I don't care," he said, catching the glimpse of something in Gordon's waistband when the other man moved. Great. A gun. He was a kidnapping victim. "Not to say it might be important to some people," he added, "but honestly, what does it matter in the grand scheme of things?"

"It matters to me."

Gordon then proceeded to drag him over hell and high water, pointing at mound and stones and other various old and moldy things in the forest.

Rodney had to admit, when John came strolling out from behind a tree, he was relieved. Gordon was a bit more fanatical about this than he had anticipated.

And the fact that he had a gun was never a good thing.

John revealed that Sheppard Industries did apparently own the land—the only thing that managed to shock Rodney about him being there.

He was also impressed that John was making an effort to work with Gordon instead of just shooting him. He knew it was for his benefit, and not because his lover didn't want Gordon dead.

Although, right now, shooting him sounded like a very good option.

Finally, they managed to convince Gordon to let them leave. With a coffee in hand, Rodney drove back to the house with John staying right behind him.

On the ride home he let his brain process everything he had seen—especially the Ancient writing on the gravestones. That was never a good sign. And then when you took in the strength of John's gene it made him wonder just how coincidental that could be.

Ancient writing on stones. John's super ATA gene. High reports of alien abductions in the area.

There had to be something else there—but that meant wandering around to find it and then getting the SGC involved.

He decided he needed to do some additional research before he made any decisions about their next move.

And then there was the other thing: just how sexy and hot John had been coming to his "rescue". He had to thank him properly when they got home.

When they got back and headed up to their room, John started producing weapons from all over his body. Rodney had thought he was sexy before. That just took him over the edge.

Fucking John into the mattress was really the only way to thank him properly.

Fortunately, John was totally on board with the plan.

By the time Gordon showed up first thing tomorrow morning, Scarlett had been able to dig up a good amount of information about the property and its previous owners. And the scary amount of deaths.

Gordon was... really being a dick. Rodney wondered why he was suddenly acting like he was King of the Hill. He just hoped the other man didn't push John too far.

 

Rodney knew his lover was itching for a chance to knock Gordon down a few pegs, and that parting comment as he left about being their worst nightmare was not really helping matters any.

And to think Rodney had actually liked him, thought about leaving John for him. What was he thinking?

Heading to his lab, Rodney decided to look through what they had found so far and see what kinds of parallels he could dig up.

In particular, he wanted to see if it was a coincidence John had the gene so strong, and there was a dialect of Ancient on tombstones found miles from his family estate.

He hacked into the county offices, looking at birth and death records—especially when it concerned the Sheppards. Apparently his line went back a long, long time in Louisville. Rodney could trace it back several centuries.

But what if the gene wasn't random? What is John was the result of Ancient experimentation? Huh. That would explain a lot.

Rodney decided to see what John himself could tell him.

He called over to John's office and started speaking as soon as John picked up. "Did you and your brother have the same parents?"

"Of course we did. Why?"

"Does he have the gene?"

"You know, I have no idea."

"I know you can't exactly ask him if things light up for him, but if your family was in the area for hundreds of years, there had to be an Ancient involved at some point. Actually, maybe even more recently than that since your gene is so strong."

"It's possible, I suppose. You have toys, right? Next time we see him, hand him something and we'll make up a story about it if it does light up."

"I have a paperweight somewhere, yeah," Rodney said, glancing around his office. "But don't you get it? This might be more than just a haunted piece of property and a mysterious buyer. What if it involves the SGC?"

He actually heard John take a huge breath. "You think there's an Ancient facility there?"

"I don't know, but it would explain the missing people that I'm reading in the files Scarlett pulled." And all of the so-called alien abductions.

"If there is one there, is there any way we can find it?"

"I don't know. Let me think about it. I might have to call in some favors. I think Bob is in Ohio. He might know." Rodney nodded to himself. There was an ancillary facility there that was associated with Area 51.

"If there is a lab there, we need to get in. There's no telling what's there."

"On the property or in Ohio?" Rodney asked, confused for a moment. "I know there's a facility in Ohio. I haven't been there, though. But, what if Henderson—your dad's golf buddy—has something to do with the Trust or the NID or something. Maybe they know something."

He could hear affection and exasperation in equal measures in John's voice. "No, the property here. Especially if the Ancient who built it knocked up one of my ancestors."

"Let me call in some favors," Rodney said, already pulling up the number he needed.

He hung up before John had a chance to say anything else.

Rodney pulled up Bob Hall's information in Ohio and started dialing.

"Yes, what? Hello?"

"Bob? It's Rodney McKay."

"What?" There was a pause. "McKay? Rodney McKay?"

"Yes, that's me. I have some questions for you." He leaned back in his office chair.

"Wow, I thought you were dead. Or insane or something. You just sort of disappeared."

"Tales of my demise have been greatly exaggerated. Listen, I need to know if you are doing any work in the Louisville area."

"Louisville? Kentucky? No, why?"

"Are you sure? Think really hard. I need to know if there are any special projects operating here."

"No, I'd know if there were. Why do you ask?"

"There are some weird reports from the area and I'm just trying to track them down."

"What kind of weird reports? Anything good?"

Rodney shrugged to himself. "The usual. I'm just trying to follow the leads I'm finding. Are you sure not one's working down here?"

"Absolutely sure. Should I send someone? Are you there now?"

"I'm here, but don't send anyone. I'm still…researching. I'll let you know if I need any help."

"All right. So... what have you been up to?"

"Research mostly. I live in Louisville right now."

"But aren't you Canadian? What are you doing in Kentucky?"

"My…ah…partner has a house here."

"Oh. Wow. You're married?"

"No. Not married."

"Well good luck man! That's fantastic to hear that you're found someone!"

"Thanks," Rodney said, not elaborating. "So, thanks for the help, Bob. I appreciate it."

"No worries. Just holler if I can do anything to help."

"Yeah, thanks." Rodney hung up, absently staring into space. Something was going on, but it wasn't on the SGC's or Area 51's radar.

Rodney thought about several possibilities, letting all the ranting Gordon had done settle into his head. Maybe if he could pin-point a location to start looking… Right now there was just way too much land to cover.

He started mapping each and every strange report of an abduction that had occurred in the area. He started with the most recent and went back in time, year by year.

To his surprise, all the reports of odd activity made an almost perfect circle, with a void in the middle. He was willing to bet that void was where they would find whatever might be out there.

He was really happy when his plans worked out.

Especially since the void happened to be right smack in the middle of the property everyone was currently up in arms about. It was time for him and John to go on a little field trip tomorrow.

It didn't take much to convince John, although he should have known that it wouldn't. Sometimes the other man started getting restless if there wasn't something to do, some physical activity. This would give him a chance to get out and wander through the woods.

The next day they headed out into the woods, John nearly leaping out of the car when they arrived.

They wandered for a bit while Rodney tried to calibrate the GPS with the map he had made of the area. He was focused on the search until John piped up out of nowhere. "I think it's over here."

"What?" Rodney asked, looking up from the hand-held scanner thing he'd cobbled together.

"I can... feel something. A pull. Not enough to know where yet, but you know that... tingling in the back of your head that Atlantis had? It's like that, only a lot weaker. I probably wouldn't even have noticed it if I hadn't been away from the city for so long."

John's super-gene was working. He moved to John's side. "Close your eyes and think about where it's coming from."

John nodded. He closed his eyes and just started walking with a hand out. It was a bit disconcerting that he put so much trust in Rodney. I mean, there were trees and rocks and all kinds of things to fall over.

He wandered for a few minutes that way until he was touching a random tree. Without warning, a panel suddenly opened up.

Rodney blinked twice. That was just not fair. "No. It can't be that easy."

John shrugged. "I doubt our Ancient friend ever expected anyone with the gene to come looking for his hidden access panel."

"It's a tree."

"It's not a real tree."

"It's a tree," Rodney repeated. If he ever met an Ancient, he was going to have to smack him upside his head. Doors in trees were just…stupid.

John rolled his eyes, and from the way he started staring at the tree, Rodney had a feeling he was trying to open the door.

"Don't set off any burglar alarms," he said, looking over his shoulder.

"I'll try." After a few moments, the tree slid to the side to reveal a set of stairs.

Rodney wrinkled his nose and took a few steps back as stale air rolled out at them. "Give it a few minutes. God knows when someone was down there last."

"Probably a few generations, at least." John peered down the stairs. "I wonder how many people our randy Ancient friend got busy with, who might be related to me now."

Rodney's mouth twitched into a smirk. "Just look for that hair and ears. They're hard to miss."

After a beat, John stuck out his tongue. Stuck. Out. His Tongue. Like they were both three years old.

Rodney laughed and rolled his eyes. "It's true though."

"Yeah, yeah." John grinned and pulled Rodney into his arms, kissing him softly.

Surprised and pleased at the same time, Rodney groaned into John's mouth, wrapping his arms around him as he shifted closer. "So, Ancient technology makes you horny?" he asked when John finally pulled away.

"Maybe." John's eyes sparkled as he grinned down at Rodney. "Then again, maybe it's just how your eyes light up, and how focused you get when you're working on Ancient technology that makes me horny."

Rodney's mouth twitched into a half smile. "Are you sure you didn't take too big of a breath of that weird air?"

"Yup. Although it's probably cleared out now. We should go check it out, and we can have wild sex later when we get home."

"Mmmm….wild sex is always fun."

John's laugh was a heady thing, but he pulled away before Rodney could stop him. "Come on. Let's go see what our friend was up to."

"You mean your relative," Rodney teased. It was good to see John like this, open and trusting and happy. God. John was happy.

"Yeah yeah." John tossed back another grin before he started down the stairs.

"Don't yeah yeah me. You know whoever they were was probably sowing their seeds all over the area," Rodney said, following him down the narrow staircase.

"I'm trying not to think too hard about that." Lights started flickering on around them.

Huh. It looked like some of the labs on Atlantis that were long abandoned. It was a little weird to find one in the middle of Kentucky, though.

"Talk about deja vu." John was looking all around.

Rodney had headed right for the console, trying to boot it up so he could get a little more information. "What?" he asked, looking up at John. "I'm trying to work here."

He got one of those smiles John seemed to reserve just for him. "Don't mind me. I'm going to clear the rest of the building. I'll be right back."

"Don't touch anything!" Rodney yelled as John wandered off.

As John did his manly exploring, Rodney pulled out one of the dusty Ancient chairs and sat down as he started scrolling through the screens. It was slow going because of the whole Ancient to English conversion going on in his head, but it was do-able. He just had to concentrate.

"Any ideas as to what he or she was doing down here?" John's voice startled him.

He scowled to himself and didn't look up. "Working."

"Okay."

Rodney could hear John wandering around, his boots scraping against the floor when he didn't pick up his feet. When he started lingering in one spot for a few seconds, Rodney spoke quietly, but firmly. "No touching."

"Do you have eyes in the back of your head I just haven't found yet?"

"No. I just know you."

"Hmph."

Rodney smiled to himself and continued working, plodding through the database until he was comfortable talking about it and making educated guesses. Besides, with John twitching next to him, he knew his time was just about over. "Okay. This was an Ancient research lab. Apparently whoever was here was doing genetic research."

"Why does that not surprise me?" John sighed. "It seems like that was their national obsession. What was this one trying to do?"

"It looks like they were studying gene dispersal patterns." Rodney paused, making a face as he considered what he'd read. It was kind of like that—more or less. "Maybe. Well, it's something close to that."

"What does that mean?"

Rodney turned in his chair, focusing his eyes on him. He had to dumb down the Ancient medical voodoo for John. "It's all about determining what genes are dominant or recessive. For example, you can only get blue eyes if both of your parents have the gene for blue eyes. It's a recessive trait. With this, it looks like the Ancient may have been altering one gene at a time and then studying how it fared in the population."

John made a face. "Great, so I'm the product of a giant Ancient experiment. I'm starting to feel a little depressed here. What genes was he testing?"

"I think it was a she, in this particular case, and I'm not sure. Several. Which is also why I'm curious to see if your brother or nephew has the gene or not. Or your mother. Do you have any other blood relatives?"

"Some from both sides of the family. I saw them last at my Father's funeral. We really don't talk to them a lot. Anything else interesting here?"

"Hmm," Rodney said, letting his brain tick forward for a few seconds. "I'd be interested to see how many of you have the gene. Especially since you have it so strongly. I wonder if both sides of your family had it or just the one."

"Don't know. If you can come up with a way to test everyone without giving it away, feel free."

"Blood samples and Carson?" He shrugged. He didn't do much with medical voodoo stuff. "I want to poke my head into a few things before we head out. It looked like there was some equipment in here for testing."

"Yeah, I saw a few things, but you told me not to touch them."

"Yeah. The last thing I need is the equipment deciding it likes you better than it should," he said rising to his feet. "Show me where it is."

John took him around the room, showed him a few consoles and pieces of equipment and then managed to turn them on and get sucked into a wall. After several tense minutes of trying to convince the old machinery to turn itself off as John was turning whiter and whiter, Rodney finally managed to save his idiotic, immature, have to touch everything and get hurt all the time lover.

He used a flash drive to download all the information the base had just assembled on John as his lover sat on the floor and recovered. Rodney poked around and carefully grabbed a few extra Ancient crystals they had lying around. He figured he could use them more than whatever Ancient scientist who called this home. Once John was able to walk again, they headed out, John calling the SGC as soon as he could get a signal.

Once the call was made, all they could do was wait.

Rodney spent the afternoon trying to figure out what the hell the lab was supposed to be doing—and what it wanted with John's blood. This was more Carson's area, but he knew some basic stuff—you couldn't be a genius and not know a little bit about everything—but it was slow-going at best.

He wasn't expecting to have General Jack O'Neill hovering in his doorway a few hours later.

"General! You…ah…Simon pointed you this way?" he said, trying to cover his nervousness and his surprise. He'd fully expected they'd need to wait several days before one of Carter's minions wandered to the estate.

"McKay. Nice set-up you've got here."

"Ah…thanks. John set it up. You didn't waste any time getting here."

"Nope. The two of you have a habit of turning small things into big ones. Who else would stumble across an Ancient base on Earth? There was no telling what else you'd do if I didn't come check it out."

"Honestly, Daniel has a much worse reputation for stumbling onto things—and dying." Rodney shrugged. "To each his own, I guess."

O'Neil made a face. "So what have you found so far? I know you couldn't help analyzing what you've already gotten out of there. What am I looking at?"

"It's a genetics lab—an Ancient genetics lab. I don't know much more than that at this point. Genetics isn't exactly my specialty. Carson, on the other hand, would be in seventh heaven."

"Hmm. Good to know. Try not to get into any more trouble."

"It's not like I go looking for it."

"No, you two are like trouble magnets. It just comes to you."

"Like you should talk…ah, sir."

The general chuckled. "I'm not casting any stones here, McKay. Just pointing out the obvious. Stay out of trouble." He wandered out again before Rodney could say anything else.

Rodney scowled at O'Neill's retreating back. Him coming here so quickly put him on edge. What else was going on? There had to be something else going on. A General didn't just appear for shit and giggles—even O'Neill.

Great. Just great, he thought, scenarios and situations already beginning to spiral through his head. With a sigh, he tried to shake them off, to go back to the genetic stuff, but his head wasn't in it anymore.

He decided to hack Scarlett's computer to see what she wasn't telling him again.

It wasn't hard, even with the little traps she had put in place. It had become something of a game: she would try to keep him out, and he would break down all the walls and get in anyway.

As soon as he was in, he ran a quick program to pull the documents and items that had been changed or added since he'd last checked a week or so ago. There wasn't too much, but a few caught his eye.

They were from the Canadian court system. Shit.

From the looks of things Detective Stewart and the district attorney were being pricks—as usual. He was going to have to go to Toronto sooner rather than later.

He sighed. That was the last thing he wanted to do.

As much as he wanted Meyers to pay for what he'd done, Rodney had no desire to go through everything for the circus he knew the trial would end up being.

Taking a deep breath, he closed the emails. He knew, in the end, he didn't have much choice. Once O'Neil was gone, he'd figure out what to do.

With his concentration shot, he logged out of Scarlett's computer and headed for the kitchen. He wanted snacks and more snacks. It was better than the vodka he was really thinking about and he'd promised John he'd be good. So…snacks.

John found him in the kitchen after O'Neill had left and then helped him with some naked gorging. It was certainly a better way to try and forget about the looming trip to Toronto.

Rodney tried to spend the days normally—his mornings with Madison and his afternoons in his lab. His attention span was nil, though, which made concentrating on the small generator he was trying to build difficult. It was geothermal and thanks to the crystals he'd borrowed from the Ancient lab, had a much higher probability of actually working right.

Integrating everything the way he wanted, though, was a different matter entirely.

He tinkered with it off and on, letting it be the distraction he so desperately needed right now.

Since he was working with geothermal energy, he contacted Bill—John's contractor dude—to have a small hole drilled near the house's foundation where he wanted the generator to sit behind some bushes.

He met the man outside the front door one afternoon when Bill had a chance to come over. "Sir. What can I do for you?"

"I need to tap into a geothermal vent of sorts that runs beneath the property."

Bill raised an eyebrow. "Do I want to know why?"

"If you must know, I'm developing a new power source that taps into the natural geothermal energy of the planet. No fuss. No muss. No weird chemicals or contaminations. I just need to drop a line a few hundred feet down and you have the equipment to do that."

Bill shrugged. "Show me where you want the hole, and I'll let you know if I can do it."

Rodney led him to the spot he'd picked near the house. "This would be ideal."

Bill knelt down and played with the soil a bit. "How deep you say you wanted it?"

"Couple hundred feet. Small hole, though. Just enough for some tubing and cabling."

"Let me see what I've got. I'll be back tomorrow, same time?"

"Sure," Rodney nodded. "Just…don't mention it to John, okay?"

Both of Bill's eyebrows went up as he stood.

"I just want it to be a surprise when it's all finished."

Bill shrugged. "Long as you don't get me fired, I'm okay with that."

"I won't. And you'll get paid, too."

"All right then. I'll meet you back here with some tools tomorrow and we'll do what we can for you."

"Good, great," Rodney said bouncing on his toes. He followed Bill back to the front of the house and watched as he climbed into his truck. The rest of the day Rodney finished up the generator, checking all the circuits and whatnot. Bill arrived right on time and Rodney watched as he drilled the exact hole he needed.

That afternoon once Bill left, Rodney set up the generator back behind the bushes, and carefully hooked it into the main house. He triple-checked everything before he turned it on.

It hummed quietly just as Rodney thought it would. He watched it for a few minutes making sure it wouldn't blow up and once he was convinced it was safe, he fixed the plants and left it. He checked on it twice a day until they left and it was running like a charm and no one knew anything had changed.

By the time the day arrived to take the private jet to Toronto, Rodney was nearly vibrating. Sometimes he felt as if he was going to come out of his skin and the vodka was looking more and more tempting with each passing moment.

John kept giving him sidelong looks at dinner the night before they left as if he was going to spontaneously combust.

"You going to be okay?"

"Sure. Never better," he replied as he looked out the window of the car as they drove to the airport in the early morning hours. His left leg was bouncing almost continuously now.

John captured his hand and squeezed. "What can I do to help?"

Rodney shrugged, glancing at the back of Simon's head before turning back to the scenery outside the window.

He heard his lover sigh, but John didn't press. He just held Rodney's hand.

Rodney was so exhausted from the mental pressure he'd been under all week as they waited for this day to arrive. Last night had been much like the rest, with John simply holding him as all the memories from the accident came back with a vengeance.

Once they were on the plane, a private jet owned by Sheppard Industries so at least there were no crying babies, John put the armrest up between them and put his arm around Rodney.

It was better when they were touching, when he had contact with John, but he still felt like he was going to vibrate out of his skin. He was nervous and anxious and in desperate need to be anywhere else except on a plane headed to Toronto.

John had the flight attendant bring them both a small glass of vodka and coke. Lately, as much as he wanted to just drink, he had been letting John decide when and how much. The other man seemed to know when he needed something to calm him down, and exactly how much to give him to take the edge off without making him drunk.

Rodney glanced up in surprise. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah. You're about to vibrate out of the plane. It's only a small glass, but if it will help you take a deep breath and not be so anxious..."

"I worry that I might want more than just the one glass," Rodney said after a minute's thought. "I just…" He took a breath. "It's just all new again."

"I know." John squeezed him a little. "But I won't let you have any more than the one glass. If you'd prefer seltzer, though, I won't object."

"I don't know what I want. Well, I know I don't want to be doing this. That much I know."

"I know. But we're going to go check in to a nice hotel when we arrive, then go out for a fancy, overpriced dinner. After which we will go back to the hotel and I will fuck you through the mattress until you can sleep."

Rodney shifted in the seat, turning to press his face into John's neck.

John just enfolded him in his arms. "I know I can't make this all go away, but I promise you, I'll be right here the whole time. And I'll do my best to help you not think about it as much as possible."

"Brain the size of a planet," Rodney muttered into John's skin.

"Wild sex all over Canada."

"Will I get to join the Mile High Club, too?"

"Mmmm, we could. One of the few things I haven't done in a plane."

Rodney snorted. "Yeah, right."

"I haven't. Remember, I didn't much care about sex before I met you and you rocked my world."

"But you're a pilot," Rodney complained, pulling back a little. "Of course you've done it in a plane."

"Nope. I might have gotten a hard-on, but that was from the thrill of flying. Never actually did anything with it." John's hand drifted down Rodney's body.

Rodney hummed at the feel of John's hands on his body—he loved them there—wishing he had the energy to actually do something about it. "I don't know if I'm really going to be up for much."

"Right now, all you have to do is sit there and let me touch you."

"But what about the flight attendant woman person?" Rodney asked, shivering as John's hand crept under his shirt.

"I just hit a button on my seat that told her to stay out. We had it installed so we could have private meetings without interruption when we needed to."

"So this is a private meeting?"

"Well, unless you're into public displays."

"No, not particularly," Rodney said with an amused huff.

"Didn't think so." John smiled and tilted Rodney's face for a soft kiss.

Rodney let John lead, taking the comfort—and distraction—John provided.

It wasn't the rough, hot sex they sometimes had. Instead, John seemed determined to keep it soft and sweet, letting Rodney just sink into his love.

They kept most of their clothes on in the jet and John even managed to wring an orgasm out of him, just enough to take the edge off and let him sleep for the remainder of the flight. Once they were in the limo headed for the hotel, Rodney used John as his own personal body pillow and napped once again, allowing the sated feeling to linger.

Once they arrived, John took care of everything. Once they were checked in to probably the nicest hotel room Rodney had ever seen, John proceeded to strip him of all his clothes before getting them both into the massive whirlpool bathtub.

"You know you didn't have to do this," Rodney said as John re-arranged them in the tub.

"Do what? Take care of you? I like doing it."

"The private plane. The limo. This embarrassingly opulent hotel suite…"

"You're worth it. All of it. I'd do even more if I thought you would let me."

Rodney snorted. "You just ignore my complaints of it's too much anyway."

"No, I don't." John nibbled along Rodney's neck. "I know it makes you uncomfortable, so I try to keep it to a minimum."

"People like you flash hundreds the way I flash singles. You're in an entirely different league."

"Hardly. I lived without money for a long time, and I still have that mentality. You and Madison are the only ones I want to splurge on. I'd spoil you both rotten if I could."

"You already do," Rodney said as he moaned as John hit a sensitive spot.

"Mmmm, good. I just want you to be happy."

John's hands got with the proverbial program, tweaking and rubbing Rodney's nipples in between stroking his cock. With his back against John's chest and John's arms around him, Rodney had nowhere to go—and every intention to stay right here. They'd never had sex in a tub or a pool so this was all new and exciting and really, really hot.

With the water jets actively pushing the water all around them, it was an added layer of sensation. Not to mention, it completely obscured what John was doing.

"God," Rodney moaned.

"You're so hot like this. In my arms, just giving it all up."

"Killing me…"

"Loving you."

"Didn't think…didn't think I'd be able to…get it up again…feel like this," he panted.

John hummed, still working Rodney's body. He wouldn't ramp it up, though, seeming to want to keep him in this state of bliss.

At some point later, Rodney felt like he was going to fly apart—but for a much better reason that before. He wanted….god…he wanted John, wanted to be fucked…wanted….wanted….wanted…

He wasn't even fully aware of John lifting him and repositioning him until suddenly Rodney was sliding down onto a cock, John's cock.

"Oh god yes…he groaned.

John impaled him, pulling him as far down as he could go. "God... feel so good..."

Rodney spread his legs, pushing back against John as he clenched around his cock buried deep inside of him.

John lifted him almost until he slipped out, then pulled Rodney back down again, the water making everything almost surreal.

He groaned, reduced mostly to non-vowel words as John fucked him. The only thing that would be better would be if there was a mattress and John was fucking him into it. Although, this was pretty damn mind blowing.

Like before, John refused to go fast, and the position gave Rodney no leverage. He had to take the gentle loving until he was nearly sobbing with the need for release.

"Please please please," he begged, even as John lifted him and then pulled him back down sending sparks through Rodney's brain.

John whispered in his ear even as he continued to slowly fuck Rodney up and down. "Just let go, Rodney. Let go and let me take care of you."

"Please, John, please," he whispered, so far out of his mind with need and pleasure he wasn't sure what was up or down.

"I love you like this. All needy and right on the edge of pleasure."

"Please, John…"

"You going to come for me, Rodney? Like this, without a hand on your cock, just the feel of the water caressing you and me deep inside you?"

Rodney nodded his head but he was desperate for more.

"I want to make you come like this. I want to push you so far to the edge, you have no choice but to come like this."

Rodney half moaned, half sobbed with desperate need arousal. God. John like this was amazing. How could he not have liked sex before?

One of John's hands, the one not moving Rodney up and down, returned to playing with his nipples.

Rodney groaned as soon as John's hand touched his nipple, his fingers tweaking it and pulling it—and pulling half yelps and yells from Rodney's mouth. He was shaking with need and arousal and was struggling to hang on. He wanted more, wanted to feel more. He didn't want this to end.

When John's tongue started to fuck his ear in the same slow, sensual way he was fucking his ass... Rodney couldn't stop it anymore. He came with a yelled moan.

Things got hazy for a long moment and when he came back he realized John was still deep inside of him, his arms surrounding him. Rodney moaned again, shifting against John's body, feeling him inside…god. So. Fucking. Hot.

John hadn't come yet. As soon as Rodney started moving a little, John's lips were on him again. "Not done yet."

Rodney whimpered—actually whimpered—as John started nipping along his neck and jaw.

John flipped them a bit, using the water to move slowly so he didn't slip out. He arranged Rodney so his ass was almost out of the water, hands pressed against the side of the tub, on his knees on the built-in tub bench.

"Oh god," Rodney whispered when his mind caught up with what John was doing to him.

Moving slightly faster than he had before, John still was taking it slow and easy. The water sloshed around Rodney, some of it spilling to the floor, but he didn't think he cared.

Rodney whimpered again, something close to John's name, as John fucked him carefully and thoroughly. He spread his legs a little and his cock twitched valiantly but didn't rise. Rodney Junior was done for now—but this still felt amazing.

Finally, John's movements started to speed a little, and his breathing got harder. Rodney felt the rush of heat that told him John was filling him completely.

He sprawled against Rodney's back, panting into his neck.

"Mmmmmmm."

Rodney could only hum in agreement.

****

John's seduction—a.k.a. distract Rodney plan—went on all afternoon. If it wasn't sex, it was cuddled napping. If it wasn't cuddled napping, it was sensual massages. If it wasn't sensual massages, it was sex.

Whatever it was, was pretty damn mind-blowingly amazing.

By the time they got back in the limo to go to dinner, Rodney couldn't help but smile at John—stupid sappy smiles—but he was loose and relaxed and really, really sated.

They got to a stupidly expensive looking restaurant and were led to a private dining room. Rodney heard one of the wait staff telling John they had cleared a section of the kitchen of all things citrus to ensure there would be no contamination of their meals.

The light from the setting sun illuminated Toronto in such a perfect light, taking his breath away for a moment.

John joined him to gaze out the window, wrapping his arms around Rodney.

Rodney let out a quiet "wow" as everything from the day settled in his mind—everything that John had done for him, to him. But it was more than today. It was days and weeks and months of time.

"Yeah." John smiled. "Order whatever you want tonight. I already cleared with the chef—nothing on either of our menus contains anything that can hurt you. They did up a special version just for us, so you don't have to worry."

You didn't do all of this for someone if you weren't in it for the long haul. You didn't fly them places and order them special meals and stay with them when they're being stupid if you didn't love them.

Rodney paused. John loved him.

He'd heard the other man say it several times, but it was just words.

But now after everything…

He turned to John, looking up at him. "John, you did all this for me?"

With a soft smile, John just nodded.

It wasn't birds and bright lights. It wasn't fireworks and fanfare. It was just…right.

Rodney closing the gap between him and John and caught John's mouth in a kiss.

John just opened his mouth and let him in.

There were exclamations of surprise, but Rodney ignored them. This was right and perfect and wow. When they finally broke, they were both a bit out of breath.

"I want you," Rodney whispered as he panted the words. "You're crazy and you do crazy things, but I love you so much it hurts sometimes."

John's smile was blinding. Yes. Always. Me, too. I... I never knew I could be this happy, could love someone as much as I love you."

"Marry me?" John's eyes had widened when Rodney asked "The Question".

"Yes. God... yes!"

Rodney laughed—really laughed—and closed the distance again with another kiss. This was right and perfect and John was his.

He wasn't letting go of him ever again.

****

The next twelve hours was a whirlwind. Between dinner and ring purchases and paperwork and actually getting married in the courthouse in front of an actual Judge and really, really good married sex, things were looking up.

Until the morning, of course, when everything came crashing back down on him. He was nervous and anxious and just knew that things weren't going to go right.

It started with the police station, and discovering that instead of meeting the detective there and giving a statement, he was wanted at the courthouse.

It was a mob scene outside the courthouse. He swallowed down the bile when they pulled in front and he saw all the reporters and cameras and everything. Meyers was getting his revenge, that was for certain.

John gave him an out, was willing to run with him. But Rodney knew he couldn't walk away. He couldn't stomach letting Meyers get away with everything, knowing putting himself through this could mean the difference.

With John giving him support, Rodney straightened his shoulders and bucked up. He couldn't not be brave with John at his side—although when he was pulled away by the prosecutor he wasn't as certain, as sure.

She sat him down at a table, with several others flanking her at either side. "Now, ah, Doctor Sheppard? Let's go over everything piece by piece."

"You have my statement already, what more do you need?" he asked, twisting the new ring on his finger.

"When you get up on the stand, you'll be going over your full story for the court, and then you'll be questioned by the defense team. I want you as prepared as possible for what he'll throw at you. He will try to poke holes in your testimony."

"I didn't agree to this."

She gave him a pinched look. "Look, I understand the paperwork apparently got lost somewhere. We filed everything, but I can't help now that it didn't get to you."

"You were communicating just fine with our assistant until this lost paperwork," Rodney said with a scowl as he make air quotes with the last two words.

"I notified all the necessary parties, Doctor. I don't know why you weren't informed of this."

"I think we're a pretty necessary party in this whole process."

She let out a huff of air. "Are you refusing to go on the stand? If so, I need to go get prepared for court. If you are going to testify, we're wasting time."

"You apparently subpoenaed me. I didn't think I have much choice in the matter."

"You have the right to refuse to testify. You aren't on trial, so you can decline to give your testimony. The subpoena only required you to show up."

"But you can throw my ass in jail."

She shrugged. "I could, but where would that get me? Not only would I still not have your testimony, I'd put what I do have from you already into serious doubt."

"Great, just great." Rodney looked away, eyes fixed on the window in the room overlooking the central courtyard of the court complex.

"I'm more interested in putting Meyers behind bars permanently than I am punishing a witness who doesn't want to cooperate. Now, I have to ask again Doctor, are you going to testify on the stand or not? If you are, we need to prep you now."

"What kind of a case do you have without me?"

"Admittedly you are one of our key witnesses for the murder portion of the trial. We have several other murder charges against Meyers that aren't as solid as yours, as well as quite a few counts of sexual assault. The sex charges I don't need you as much for, I have the girls themselves to testify."

Rodney took a deep breath and nodded. "Fine. Just…be quick about it."

She gave him a tight smile, and began a rapid-fire prep walking him through each part of his testimony, as well as some of the potential questions he could be asked.

He answered—mostly—and dithered on some, but overall he thought it went well. Or at least as well as it could have gone—until he stepped up onto the stand and stared out over the packed courtroom and didn't see John.

He was sworn in, and then saw John coming in the back and finding a seat.

Rodney let out a long sigh, fixing his eyes on his husband, friend, lover, and support. He tried not to look at the smirking Meyers sitting at the defense table, but it was hard to ignore him. He just…sucked all the energy in the room like a great big black hole.

The prosecutor went back over pretty much exactly what they had just done in the other room, and while he didn't like her, he was at least grateful she was making it as easy as possible. He knew that wouldn't last.

The questions from the defense attorney came hard and fast—confusing him and putting him off-balance. What did his DWI have to do with anything? He got angry at the accusations and started lashing out even though he knew it was going to ruin everything.

When he was finally allowed to leave, he followed one of the assistants who had briefed him, and whose name he hadn't bothered to get, out one of the side doors.

It was a train wreck. He'd let Meyers get to him. He'd let down Jeannie and Caleb.

He sat down back in the room he'd been in before, and someone brought him a glass of water.

Rodney ignored the well-meaning person as he put his head between his legs and tried desperately not to freak out about how badly he'd done.

Suddenly a warm hand was on his back. "Hey."

John. John was here. "I want to leave," he mumbled, leaning toward him.

He felt John shift to look at someone else. "Do you need anything else from us?"

"No. He gave his testimony. He's free to go."

Getting out was as hellish as getting in. After a stop in the bathroom to lose anything floating around his stomach, they had to run the gauntlet again to get back to the car.

Once they made it back to the limo, Rodney let everything overwhelm him, tired of holding his panic in. John was so damn understanding, holding him and comforting him the entire ride back to the hotel.

They finally made it home the next day, John sticking to his side the entire trip. When they got home, Scarlett—of course—had told the entire house staff about their marriage and there was a veritable feast awaiting them. Rodney, though, could barely get through any of it. It all tasted like cardboard and the only thing that kept circling through his mind was how he'd screwed everything up with the trial. Meyers would get off because of him.

The next morning he stumbled out of bed close to noon—John already back in his office working—and headed to the stables. Riding horses when he was young had been a trial, but he'd come up with some of his best ideas in the solitude of the ride.

Joe, the stable master, saw him come in and wandered over. "Hello, sir. Can I help you with anything?"

"I'm going to ride," Rodney said, pointing his thumb toward the open end of the barn.

"How long has it been since you were on a horse, sir?"

"I went to the house with John."

Joe nodded. "I remember now. Good. Do you have a preference for a horse?"

"A horse is a horse," Rodney said with a shrug. "Can I just go?"

Joe led him into the barn. "How about Love Bug then? She's a gentle one, and could use an outing herself. I'll get her saddled up for you."

"That's fine," Rodney said, wandering around the barn. He vaguely realized Love Bug—John needed to stop naming things—was the horse he'd ridden before.

Joe led the horse out a few minutes later all saddled up, and he saw another one being led out by one of the handlers right behind him.

"Someone else is going out?"

"That's Artie. He'll just be following along behind you to make sure everything is okay. When I have riders without much current experience, I insist on having someone with them for the first few times they go out on one of my babies."

"I know how to ride," Rodney scowled.

"If I didn't think you could, I wouldn't let you out on her at all."

Rodney sighed. "I just want to ride by myself. Is that so much to ask?"

Joe gave him a sympathetic look. "I do understand, sir. Really. I just have to be sure both you and Bug will come back safe. Artie will stay far enough behind you that you won't even notice him unless you run into trouble."

"And if I don't want Artie going?"

"Then I'm afraid I can't let you go out." Joe shrugged. "That's stable policy for everyone, new rider and experienced alike. If I don't know how you ride, you go out with a trainer trailing you the first few times. Once I'm sure you can handle my horses, I'll let you go it alone."

Rodney sighed. "Fine."

Joe helped him up. "Enjoy your ride, sir."

Rodney muttered to himself as he got Love bug moving out, away from the house. He headed out on a semi-straight path only turning when he hit the fence outlining the property. There was a whole lot of nothing out here. Trees. Dirt. Grass. And a sad-looking wooden fence that looked like it was going to fall down. It offered no protection at all. What if someone came to the house and wanted to hurt John or Madison? They had a grand entrance to the property and no one would ever know they were out there.

He made a mental note to do something about it in his spare time.

He was out riding for a few hours before coming back to the stable, letting Joe take Love Bug from him to get him settled and cleaned and brushed. Rodney wandered back into the house and took a quick shower to get the horse smell off of him before heading into this office to try and work.

He had three voicemails on his work phone and six on his cell. Every one of them was Gordon demanding information, demanding his attention. Demanding, demanding, demanding.

He took a breath and walked down the hall to John's office.

John was working with his head down, staring at something on his desk. For a moment, Rodney's breath caught. That was his. All his.

Rodney cleared his throat and John looked up.

Immediately a smile appeared on John's face. "Hey."

"You need to put up a security fence."

"I do?"

Rodney nodded. "It's not safe here without one. You're in the middle of nowhere."

"No one but us ever comes out here." John shrugged. "But I can have something installed if it will make you feel better. I don't want a chain fence or anything, though."

"Something big and safe. Maybe it can zap people who try to get in. Cameras would be good, too."

"We're not putting a giant fence around the whole place. But we can get wired for cameras, and put in some motion sensors." John gestured for Rodney to come around the desk.

"I want a fence and cameras," Rodney said, crossing his arms over his chest, his cell phone digging into his arm pit. "Oh and this," he said, throwing the cell onto John's desk. It began ringing again—the Darth Vader Death March. "I need a new number."

John raised an eyebrow. "Who is that calling?"

"Gordon. I just…I don't want any more crazy people around me. Is that too much to ask?"

John stood up and came around the desk, wrapping his arms around Rodney. "No, it's not. We'll get the number changed, and I'll have all calls to you routed through Scarlett first, if you'd like. She can filter out the crazy."

"And I want the fence and cameras."

"Cameras yes. I'll think about the fence. I don't want to wall us in like we're worried about someone raiding us."

"But someone might! I don't trust Meyers or Gordon and I don't want to leave Madison unprotected. Is it too much to ask for a fence and cameras for peace of mind?"

John hugged him tight. "I'll make sure the estate is secure. I promise."

"Fence. Cameras. Maybe a new security system in the house."

"The cameras and a motion-sensor system, as well as an upgraded security system on all the buildings is a definite yes. I'll think about the fence, okay?"

"We need the fence, too," Rodney mumbled into John's chest.

"I'll think about the fence. I know I don't want to put a big chain link thing around the property."

"You can make it stone. At least eight feel high."

"That's a bit high. I'll talk to some contractors and see what they can come up with that will look nice and be safe, okay?"

Rodney nodded, sighing when his phone rang again.

John called for Scarlett, who came right in. "Can you take that and have the number changed? Gordon is making an ass out of himself."

She snorted and scooped up the still-ringing phone from John's desk. "He's driving me crazy. I was considering a restraining order."

"I'm about there myself. If you could have Rodney's cell number changed, and set up something on the main lines to catch him coming in, I'd appreciate it."

"Of course, sir. Rodney, I'll have this changed before dinner."

She headed out without waiting for a response.

Rodney tightened his arms around John. "Thanks."

"Anything for you."

"Yeah, well…" Rodney sniffed, allowing himself the comfort of John's arms for a few more seconds before pulling back. "I should let you get back to work."

"I can take a break. Why don't we go get some lunch?"

"Lunch? Isn't it close to three?"

"I haven't eaten yet."

"Won't Katie slap your hand if you try to get food now?" Rodney asked as they walked toward the kitchen.

"Probably, but she'll still give me a little something. I'm starving."

"Okay," Rodney said, letting John lead the way. He felt a little better about the fence and the cameras and whatnot, but he just hoped it would be enough. Gordon and Meyers were crazy.

He wondered now what he ever saw in Gordon to begin with.

Rodney tried to shake it off and enjoy the time with John, but even he knew that it wasn't enough. John was careful and kind with him, loving him later that night before they feel asleep tangled together.

The next few days fell into a routine. He'd watch Madison practice her riding before he'd head out on his own—Artie in tow—for an hour or so. It helped him to think, to get his head on straight. Madison was getting more and more difficult to deal with since they'd come home. She was vindictive and angry and nasty—for a six-year-old that was a bit much—and she refused to listen to anything he said. All he ever heard was "John this" and "John that". Maybe it was better that way.

He ran into her nanny one afternoon while she was riding. The woman rarely sought him out.

"Just the person I was looking for," he said as he leaned against the fence.

She smiled. "Good, because I need to speak with you, if now is a good time."

He nodded. "Sure. Where?"

"Here is fine." She watched Madison ride. "I assume you've noticed her attitude lately."

Rodney snorted. "Hard not to."

She sighed. "I believe it was triggered when she found out you and Mister Sheppard were married. She seems to be using that as an outlet for her anger, and for some reason it's mostly directed at you."

"And she doesn't listen to me anymore, either. It's like I've turned into Charlie Brown's teacher or started speaking a different language."

"Yes. From what I've observed, I think she latched on to Mister Sheppard as a kind of living teddy bear. A security blanket. And her anger is coming from feeling like you've taken him away. Her therapist and I have been discussing it to get to the root of the issue."

"I didn't do anything different. We've been living together—hell, sleeping together—for months."

"I know, and I'm not sure why you being married triggered such a negative response in her."

Rodney sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "I just…I don't know what else to do."

"I know. We're working on it, and I would encourage you to continue to do all the things you were doing before her attitude changed. It might just be something she needs to work out a little on her own. If not, we'll move on to something more intense."

"She wants nothing to do with me," Rodney said with a sigh, more to himself than anything. He pushed away from the fence. "Look, thanks. Just keep an eye on her, okay?"

"I am, but I wanted to you be aware that we're not ignoring it, and we are trying to find the root of the problem so we can address it."

Rodney nodded and headed inside, pausing only long enough to watch Madison trot around the ring and to hear her asking Joe "Do you think Uncle John will like it?"

It hurt. He wasn't going to deny that. They had been making great strides, and now all the sudden she was shutting him out.

Rodney tried not to think about it, but every time he watched her or overheard her talking it was always about John. He didn't want to be jealous of his husband, but he was—and he hated himself for it. And then days later when John insisted on him going to watch Madison jump and listening to her, it was enough. He reached his limit.

The only thing that made it better was that John truly hadn't realized what was going on.

He tried to put on a smile as he watched Madison show off for John, but it was difficult. At the first opportunity to leave, he did, heading back into the house. He'd told John he needed to work on something, but he just needed to get away. He stopped at the kitchen to tell Katie he wouldn't be down for dinner.

He went up to their room, letting everyone think he wasn't feeling well. He wasn't expecting John to show up with the tray of food, looking sheepish and apologetic.

Sometimes he just wanted to wallow and tonight was one of those nights. Why did John think he had to fix everything? Some things were just unfixable.

"Rodney?"

Rodney shifted under the blankets as soon as he heard John come in, his eyes sliding from his husband to the tray in his hand. Why couldn't Simon had just brought it up? He tried not to sigh as he replied. "You didn't have to bring that up."

"Yes, I did. I needed to apologize, and I've got some good news for you." John sat on the bed next to him after putting the tray down on the side table.

"For what?" Rodney asked with a shrug. "And you do? I didn't think we were allowed to get good news."

"I'll start with the good news first then. Meyers was convicted on all counts. He'll spend the rest of his life in jail."

"He…what?" Rodney blinked at John, letting the information settle in his mind. That was…impossible. It couldn't be true. "You're kidding. You're just trying to make me feel better, aren't you?"

John shook his head. "Jeannie and Caleb's case was one of the ones he was convicted on. The sentencing starts soon, and they're going for multiple life sentences, one for every life he took."

Convicted. Sentencing. Multiple. Life. Prison. The words kept rolling round and around in his head, none of them sticking for long. It was hard to imagine, to comprehend. "I…I don't know what to say."

"Just relax and take it in. It doesn't bring them back but... at least they got justice."

"I never…never thought…," Rodney said quietly, shaking his head, his mind going back to the trial and what had happened on the stand. It had been a train wreck. "I screwed up on the stand."

"You did great. And now we never have to think about him again. It's done."

"It's just…hard to believe." Really hard to believe.

John pulled Rodney into his arms and just held him close for several minutes before speaking again. "I also need to apologize. For Madison."

That was not a subject he wanted to talk about with John right now. "Why?"

"I didn't... I'm not trying to steal her away. At all. I just didn't realize what was going on."

"You didn't do anything, John," Rodney said as he tried to shift away from John. He really didn't want to talk about this. John, though, simply tightened his arms and held him in place, now allowing him to move away.

Soft lips pressed into the back of Rodney's neck. "Not on purpose, no. But I still feel horrible. I want to fix this."

"There's nothing to fix, John." Maybe if he said it enough times John would get the hint.

John made an unhappy noise and kissed him on the neck again.

It just…hurt, his ease with Madison. The adoration she gave him so easily. He was family, not John. But if he was in her shoes, who would he pick? John was the one who swept people off their feet, who went in where the proverbial angels feared to tread. John was the great shining hero. He was just the coward uncle who let her parents get killed. "You didn't do anything wrong. There's nothing to apologize for."

"I still feel like I've killed your cat. I don't think she's doing it on purpose, if that helps at all."

"My cat died years ago."

"You know what I mean." John idly traced patterns on Rodney's hip. "Since you're riding again, why don't you take her out and start riding with her?"

He tensed in John's arms, trying not to be defensive. "Who told you? Brian? Artie?"

"Joe. I was in talking to him, and he mentioned it. He didn't know I didn't know about it."

Rodney sighed, trying to decide how much to tell John. Although, it didn't seem like he could keep anything from him at all. "It stops me from thinking sometimes, the riding," he said quietly, adding, "And, trust me, she wouldn't be interested in riding with me."

"You don't necessarily have to start riding with her right away. Just be out there riding when she is, talk to her about it if the opportunity comes up, that sort of thing. She's in love with the horses, so if she knows you like them too, it will give you a way open up with her."

"She's in love with you. There's a difference, John."

His husband sighed. "She loves you too. I don't know how this happened."

Rodney was silent for a minute. If he wanted someone to love him unconditionally, he should just go back to the old stand-by: a cat. "I think I want a cat."

"Okay."

"I'm actually surprised I didn't get one before now. I always had a cat."

"I've never had one, actually."

"Cats usually love horses and barns and whatnot." He sighed quietly. "You should go down and eat."

"We were never allowed to have pets in the house."

"Oh," So much for that thought, then. "Then I won't get one, then."

"I didn't say that. That was growing up. I think we should have pets. It makes it more homey."

Rodney fell silent, letting his mind wander and process everything. John Just held him in his arms like he'd done when he was upset in Toronto. Toronto had been a nightmare and this even more so once they got home. But as Sarah said, it all seemed to have gotten really bad when they came back home. "It got worse when we got back from Toronto."

"Oh?"

Rodney shrugged. "Nasty, more than anything. I still haven't figured out what I did to her. It was moody before, but when we got back…" He shrugged again.

"I think that's about the time I noticed she was getting a bit more... demanding of my time. Maybe we should ask her nanny if anything happened."

"She said no. I asked."

"Huh."

Rodney was quiet for a long moment, reluctant to go into it anymore. "You should go downstairs and eat."

"I'm okay. I'd rather stay here with you."

"John," Rodney sighed. "I'm a big boy. You don't have to sit with me."

"I know I don't have to. That, however, has nothing to do with what I want to do."

Rodney sighed again. Why did John have to be so stubborn? "So you're just going to stay here."

"Yup."

"I'm not up for anything."

"I know. I can bring dinner closer if you want to pick."

Rodney really didn't want to argue with John. He wasn't up for it. And right now doing anything except what John wanted seemed like it was going to be impossibility. "Do you want to go into the media room? You can at least watch television."

"I'm fine wherever you're comfortable."

"I didn't expect you to come up here trying to save the day."

John's lips brushed his temple. "That's what I do. Or at least try to."

Rodney sighed. "Let me put clothes on and we can go inside. I know you'll get bored inside an hour and won't leave even if I tell you to. Once you get something in your head…"

John grinned at him. "You know me so well."

Rodney grumbled at John, who finally let him get up to put some clothes on. Rodney didn't miss the fact that his husband was admiring his nakedness. It just felt better to sleep without clothes and if John had slid in naked it would have been even better.

Eventually they settled in the media room, cuddled together with a blanket draped over them. Rodney picked at his dinner tray before falling asleep with his head oh John's chest.

He woke up again when he heard John talking to someone.

"John?" Rodney asked quietly, shifting in his arms.

 

"Shhh." John was focused on Madison and didn't look away from her. "I want to hear what she has to say. It might be legitimate, it might be a misunderstanding. But we need to know why."

"You promised you'd have dinner with me," Madison said, crossing her arms over her chest and stomping her foot. Oh wonderful. Here came a tantrum.

"Madison, you didn't answer my question. Why are you so angry at your Uncle Mer?" John's voice was very even, but Rodney could hear the thread of anger under the patience.

You never wanted to have John Sheppard mad at you. It could get bad. Madison, though, ignored it, stomping her feet again. "You promised."

"I know I did, and I'm sorry. But your Uncle isn't feeling well. Don't you think I should take care of him when he's sick?"

"A promise is a promise," she said, her scowl deepening. Wow. She looked just like her mother with that expression.

"If you were sick, wouldn't you want someone to come take care of you?"

She nodded reluctantly. "But he's always sick."

"Not always. But right now, he's not feeling well because he was so upset about how you've been treating him lately. He loves you so much, so when you're mean to him, it hurts him."

Madison's face hardened. "He's always sick."

John's voice hardened a bit. "No. Sometimes he's very sad because he misses your mom and dad so much. That's a little different from being sick."

"He made them go away," she said, staring accusingly at Rodney. "He came and then they went away."

Rodney moved in John's arms, needing to get away from the brat and from the whole conversation. He knew she blamed him, but hearing it out loud…

John's arms tightened, keeping him in place. "The two don't have anything to do with one another, sweetheart. A very bad man, who has a sick mind, made your parents go away. Your Uncle misses them as much as you do though. And if there was a way to bring them back right now, I know he would do it in a heartbeat. I think if he could, he would even trade his life for theirs. But unfortunately, we can't do that. All we can do is pull together as a family and take care of each other like they would have wanted."

"You promised you would eat dinner with me. You promised. I hate you. I don't love you anymore!" she turned and ran down the hall to her room, slamming the door a moment later.

John sighed softly. "She just needs time to work through her grief. It seems like she's finally hit the anger stage, and unfortunately it's all directed at you. Maybe you should go have a talk with her counselor."

"She said there was nothing I could do. It would 'work itself out'," Rodney said, making air quotes with his hands. "I've talked to her nanny and her doctors. I am, apparently, the root of all sorts of evil."

"Madison needed a scapegoat, and you were the most handy target. I'm guessing just loving her, and not letting even her anger drive you away, will get her through it. In a way, she's testing to see if you'll disappear, too. But when you don't, not even when she's nasty, she'll come to realize what she's doing. In a way, you're the safest target for her, I think. She knows, on some level, that you really won't leave her."

"Maybe. I think she's jealous, too. At least that's what the doctor thinks."

"Probably." John hugged him. "We'll figure out all this parenting stuff though. Between the two of us."

"I guess," Rodney said with a shrug as he shifted on the couch, turning so he could wrap his arms around John. "I never wanted this with her. Maybe she knows that."

"I think she's just lashing out, and you're the easiest target right now."

"Maybe." Or maybe she just hated him. That was probably the easier explanation.

John hugged him again. "Why don't you go talk to her now? She'll be mean, I'm sure, but the more we keep reinforcing that we love her no matter what, the faster, hopefully, this will blow over."

"Oh yeah," Rodney sniffed, "because getting yelled at by a six-year-old is the most enjoyable way to spend my evening."

"No, not the most enjoyable, but probably necessary."

"I don't know what's worse," Rodney said with a quiet sigh as he sat up. "The yelling or the silent avoidance."

"Avoidance. At least with the yelling, she's getting some of it out of her system instead of brooding about it. Just don't yell back. As best you can, try to explain stuff to her. I think she is listening, even when she's pretending not to."

"When have you heard me yell at her?" Rodney sniffed. He'd been good about that. He made sure he didn't yell at her. He remembered all the yelling when he was growing up and that was something she didn't need when she got older. She had enough bad things to remember.

"Never." John kissed Rodney's forehead before letting him stand. "You're a good parent, whether you know it or not. Not perfect, no, but you love her and you keep trying. That's really what's important."

Rodney sighed as he levered himself up off the couch and headed down the hall. He tapped at Madison's door before opening it and stepping inside. She was still stomping around the room—much like her mother did when she was younger.

"Get out! This is my room!"

"No, Madison, I'm not going to get out," he said, trying to keep his voice level. "We need to talk."

"No. You're a horrible uncle and you take away everyone I love! I don't want to talk to you ever again!"

Rodney closed his eyes for a moment, his breath catching in his throat. "I understand that you've had a difficult time. I'm not dismissing that, but that doesn't excuse your attitude or the way to treat me."

"I don't care! I hate you! Get out!"

"No, Madison, I'm not going to leave until you pull yourself together and calm down," Rodney said, his own anger and frustration bubbling up. "I'll admit I'm not the best at this parenting thing, but you have to learn how to deal with disappointment and you should start learning how to do that now. Life is a series of disappointments so you just need to get used to it."

"I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!" She picked up a vase and chucked it at him.

Rodney automatically ducked to the side, shocked that she would throw something at him. It shattered against the wall behind where he'd been standing.

"You….you….ungrateful…you…" he sputtered.

John was suddenly there, probably brought by the sound of the crash. "Rodney?"

"That…that! That was the last straw, young lady," Rodney gritted out, clenching his fists. John's presence beside him just strengthened his resolve. "You have…no right…none to throw that kind of a temper tantrum. You are grounded. So grounded."

He caught John nodding, agreeing with him, out of the corner of his eye as Madison started to cry Hysterically. "I hate you!"

Even as John was asking him what happened, he was already planning her punishment. "There will be no riding, no nothing, for the next month," he said, his eyes focused on Madison. "Do you understand me?"

John chimed in even though it was obvious he didn't know everything going on. But he was willing to back Rodney up. "The stables will be notified, Madison. I will back him up. It's one thing to be angry and talk about why, it's another to behave the way you have been."

She stomped over to another vase, daring him to do something. His heart clenched in his chest. She was so Jeannie right now it hurt. "Don't you dare pick that up," Rodney said, his voice hard.

"Anything you break will not be replaced, young lady." John said. "You break it, you lose it. And for every item you break in anger, another week will be added on to your punishment."

She ignored John's words, too, eyeing him defiantly as she picked up another vase and hurled it at John.

"Five weeks, no riding." John's voice was hard again.

"And if your attitude continues, we'll take away more privileges," Rodney said. "You don't deserve to get anything nice if you throw fits and yell."

"We both love you, very much," John told her. "But this kind of behavior is not acceptable, Maddie. If you have something you want to talk to one of us about, we can sit down and talk, but throwing a tantrum because you don't get your way is not going to be tolerated."

"I hate you!" Madison screamed, tears flowing readily down her cheeks.

"I love you, and I'll never stop loving you. But that doesn't mean I like or will allow you to behave this way."

"I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!" she yelled before she ran across her room and threw herself onto her bed, beating her fists into the mattress.

John took a deep breath, and looking over, catching Rodney's eye. "I don't think staying here right now will get us anywhere."

Rodney nodded, letting John lead him from the room. Simon and Sarah were outside in the hall looking sheepish—garbage bags and brooms in hand. Rodney left John to deal with them and headed back to their media room and to the bar. Damn his promise. The first shot of vodka went down fast and easily, burning a trail to his stomach. The second was slower—but not by much.

John—surprisingly—didn't comment, but did take his empty glass away, eventually taking his drunk ass to bed.

****

Being a responsible adult sucked.

The next morning, they all sat down and set up ground rules for how Madison's rearing would be handled. Rodney had to finally buck up and deal with his niece. It was only fair since he'd killed Jeannie and Caleb by proxy. He also didn't want her to end up like Dave—a pompous, spoiled rich kid—especially with the way John doted on her.

Going forward, John and Rodney would spend part of their morning with her before they headed off to their respective jobs. The sulking, pouting, yelling, and screaming were expected at first and thankfully it calmed down over the course of her five-week grounding. Once she was more…normal, it wasn't as horrible to spend time with her—but he refused to admit that to John.

At night, Rodney ended up sitting with her again, and that had been worse than the morning. After the initial screaming the first two days, she decided to start sulking and not say a word. She'd just glare at him across the table.

John backed him up with everything, which helped tremendously, but he was the one who had to take responsibility for her, not John.

To make things worse, though, was his research into that damn property and the lab. The more he dug into things, the worse it got. Apparently the NID and the Trust both wanted to get their hands on the lab—and were using Dave and Nancy to get to him and John. It was one big clusterfuck that managed to bring the Calvary in the shape of SG-1 back to Kentucky.

Simon poked his head into the lab the morning after the whole revelation that Dave-the-idiot was working with the Trust. "Sir? There are visitors in the parlor who have requested your presence."

"I'm in the middle of something, Simon," Rodney said with an exasperated sigh.

"I know sir, but these are the guests I was told to expect yesterday, and your presence was specifically requested."

"I need a few minutes," he said, trying to jot down the equation in his brain before it slid away again.

Simon didn't leave, hovering in the doorway waiting for him.

Rodney huffed, but tried to be quick, putting down his pen way before he would have liked to. He followed Simon toward the front of the house—and the sound of chatter. As soon as he turned the corner, he came face to face with Carson, Lorne, Carter, and O'Neill.

"Carson?" Rodney asked, his voice sounding weak. "You're…"

Carson grinned at him. "Hi there, laddie!"

Rodney only managed to take two steps forward before Carson enveloped him in a big hug. "You're really here."

"Aye, they brought us in to take a look at what the two of you have found for us."

O'Neill and SG-1 headed out a few minutes later, leaving him and John alone with Carson and Lorne. They talked about the lab for a bit and caught up, before heading to their bedrooms in the guest wing.

Rodney followed Carson into his room, pointing out the spa and other features, and getting an odd enjoyment out of seeing how impressed he was.

Rodney watched his friend flutter around the room, a soft smile on his face. "It's good to see you, Carson."

"Aye, you too. We've missed you both something fierce. Especially with this whole fiasco. I canna imagine it would have happened had you two still been there."

"Well, we wouldn't have found the lab here, so…" Rodney shrugged. "So, are you doing okay?"

"Aye." Carson sighed, sitting on the bed. "For the most part. And if you hadna found the lab, they wouldna have installed the equipment in Atlantis, and we wouldna be here now trying to find a way to stop it."

"Exactly," Rodney said with a quiet sigh. "I didn't think Zelenka would be stupid enough to just…put it in. He knows better than to just put in new equipment without testing it first. It's a surprise that it only bonded with the city and didn't blow up immediately. At least you have some time before everything goes critical."

"Aye." Carson gave him a weak smile. "But enough of the grim stuff. I havena been back on Earth in a while, and I'm looking forward to a visit with you and John."

"Such as it will be," Rodney said with a shrug.

"We'll get a bit in." Carson grinned. "Now, I think I'd better try to rest. I'm tired after all the travel, much as I hate to admit it."

"Of course, of course," Rodney said, immediately heading to the door. "Just relax and come down when you're ready. I'm sure Katie will make a feast tonight."

"Aye, after Jack O'Neil raving about it, I'm looking forward to tasting the food."

Rodney chuckled. "Katie knows how to cook, that's for sure." He paused at the door, hand on the handle. "It's good to see you, Carson."

"You too, Rodney."

Rodney nodded silently, closing the door behind him. He found John in the downstairs den, lounging on the couch. He dropped down next to John. "It's good to see them."

John smiled at him. "Yeah. Did Carson tell you the official reason they're here, other than visiting?"

"Because they haven't been back to Earth in a year or more?" Rodney answered, raising an eyebrow.

"Other than that." John filled him in with more detail than Carson had given him.

He rolled his eyes. "I would have thought Zelenka would know better than to just install alien technology."

"You would think." John shook his head. "I wonder what SG-1 will find out, and if they'll even tell us about it."

"We're not cleared anymore," Rodney said, his tone bitter. "Trust me. I've heard that enough over the last few weeks." He shifted closer to John.

John nodded. "I know. But since it's my brother, we're the ones who tipped them off as to who the agents are, and it's O'Neill who's been known to bend rules when it suits him... I guess I just hope they'll give us some details."

"We can ask. Who knows what they'll tell us, though." They'd probably just get the wall of "classified".

"I know." John gave him a small smile.

Rodney shifted again, turning into John, wrapping his arm around his waist. "I don't like the not knowing part," he admitted. That was the hardest thing.

"Me neither. I'm used to knowing. I don't think about it when we're not doing anything related to Atlantis, but having Lorne and Carson here, and knowing they're having issues and we really can't help... But I guess that's just what we'll have to live with."

"I never liked living with stupidity like that." Rodney frowned to himself. He wasn't comfortable and John needed to move. He manhandled the other man down onto the couch so they could spoon together.

John let him arrange then with a smile, pressing a kiss to Rodney's neck, a favorite spot of his lately. "And I can't complain too much. There were some fantastic perks that came with not being military anymore."

"Hmm, yes. But we could have dealt with them, too, if we'd been given the opportunity." He shifted again, snuggling in. He threw his arm over John's waist and tangled their legs together. Yes, this was better. He put his head on John's chest and sighed quietly in contentment.

He felt John relax underneath him, bringing them even closer together. "True. All in all, I'm happier than I think I've ever been in my life. Plus, while reminders like this make me miss the city, I don't miss risking our lives every day. It would be even worse now that we're together, watching you put yourself in danger."

"You would be worse than you are now, wouldn't you?"

"Oh hell, yes."

Rodney snorted and rolled his eyes. "You can't wrap me up in bubble wrap, John."

"I know. But if I knew you were in actual danger..." He felt John shiver.

Rodney rubbing his hands along John's chest, nearly petting him until Rodney felt him relax again. "I know you would always be there to fix things. You always were."

"I know. Even then, I think I was so protective of you because on some level I was already in love with you. It just took a while for me to realize it consciously. I'm a bit slow in that regard I'm afraid."

"Yeah, I know. I made you gay." The corner of his mouth twitched up in a half-smile.

"I wouldn't have it any other way." John put a hand on Rodney's cheek and turned his face so he could plant a deep kiss on his lips.

Rodney chuckled into the kiss, nipping at John's lips. He felt him smile against his mouth. "It'll be fun in a week or so when you get your own title."

"My own title?"

"There will be two Doctor Sheppards in the house."

"Oh yeah." John grinned at him. "I hadn't actually thought of that."

Rodney laughed again. "I still have a hard time answering to it."

"I love hearing it. Means you're all mine."

"Who would have thought you'd be a possessive bastard?" Rodney asked, smiling against John's lips.

John laughed softly and pulled him down for another kiss.

This time Rodney let his hand wander, sliding it up under the hem of John's shirt, touching skin. He stroked his hand along John's side as he opened his mouth to John, letting his tongue slide inside. He loved that they could do this, enjoy each other like this.  
John moaned softly and plundered, taking everything Rodney offered, and more.

Rodney's hand continued to explore, grazing against skin. He rocked into John, moaning quietly into the kiss. He loved this and wanted more.

When they finally broke for air, John looked completely wrecked. It was a good look on him. "Later."

Rodney shook his head, eyes fixed on John's lips. "Mmm…now."

"Upstairs?"

"Too far." Rodney pressed kisses along John's neck. He tasted so good, felt so good.

"Mmm, you want to here?"

"I'd rather ye didn't," Carson said.

Rodney jumped, nearing beaning himself on John's head as he jumped at the same time. John was off the couch, on the floor between the couch and the coffee table.

"Fuck! I thought you were sleeping?" John was trying to tug his clothes back into place.

Rodney pulled his shirt back down and patted at his hair as Carson wandered into the room. John settled back on the couch next to Rodney, leaving a few inches between them. Rodney appropriated a throw pillow to hide his erection. "Aye. I did, too. Seems as if I'm too wired. So…it also seems like I may have missed some things. Do tell."

John looked sheepish, holding up his hand while he blushed. "We're married."

It was kind of…nice to talk about them, about their marriage, with Carson. Although at the same time it was pretty weird. John must have seen his restlessness, because he offered to wander outside to the stables. It would give Rodney the air he needed. Maybe he'd even take a horse out.

While John took Carson to see the horses and convinced him to get on one, something Rodney had thought would never happen, he had Love Bug saddled up. He figured he would take a quick ride to let everything sink in while John taught Carson.

He needed the time to breathe, too, and John seemed to know that. It was weird in a way that John could almost read his mind about certain things.

Letting them know he'd be back in about a half hour, Rodney clucked at Bug to get her moving toward the guest house. He had been meaning to go take a peek at it anyway.

He mostly just directed Love Bug in the general direction of the house and let her go. It was quiet and peaceful and it let his brain work and spin. The biggest question on his mind: what if Carson didn't like him and John married?

It was a nice day, so he wasn't paying too much attention to where they were until suddenly Bug stumbled a bit, jolting him.

The next step Bug took nearly toppled them both. He quickly stopped her and climbed down, trying to figure out what was wrong as she limped around him, refusing to calm. "Hey, hey, it's okay. Let me see you."

Snorting a few times, she finally settled down a bit, although she didn't put much weight on her right front leg.

Rodney checked it, trying to figure out what was wrong with it.

He couldn't see anything, but she really didn't want to put any weight on it. Maybe she bruised it or something. The sun was starting to go down, so it was getting hard to see.

Rodney sighed and cursed—quite creatively—as he started very slowly to head back to the house.

This had not been what he planned at all. And he had stupidly come out without his cell phone, so he couldn't even call and tell anyone what had happened.

He stumbled around in the woods headed back to the house, cursing himself and his stupidity. Of all the nights to do this was the night John had company at the house.

It was full dark when he suddenly heard someone calling his name.

John. It was John. "I'm over here!"

His husband appeared a few minutes later. "Hey, I was getting worried." John immediately pulled him close, kissing him deeply and checking him over. "I finally resorted to having Scarlett track you for me."

"Sorry. I didn't mean to worry you," Rodney said. He waved his hand at Love Bug. "The stupid horse stepped on something. I think I got it out but it's still sore and I didn't have my phone so…I didn't think I'd gone that far out until I had to start walking."

John kissed him again, this time more gently. "I'm sorry I didn't come for you sooner."

"It's not like you can read minds. You had no way of knowing," Rodney said. "I'm sorry I had to drag you out here."

John let go and moved to Bug, lifting her foot and carefully checking it over. "I don't see anything, so it's probably just bruised. I'll walk her in the rest of the way for you." He dug out his keys and handed them over. "I'm parked that way, over on the road. I know you'll want to get cleaned up before heading in for dinner, so that will give you the time. I'll meet you in the dining room."

"I'll walk her in, John. You don't have to. Or else, call someone on staff. You shouldn't have to do it."

"I'll call over to the stable and have one of the physicians meet me half way."

"I'm sorry. I went by the house and she must have stepped on something. I thought I avoided all the construction crap, but…" Rodney sighed. He always did something wrong. Madison. Jeannie. John… "I really didn't mean to cause a problem."

"You didn't." John pulled him into his arms again and kissed him. "It happens to everyone, no matter how careful you are."

"I just know this is infinitely harder at night and it's already late."

John gave him a soft smile. "Go get cleaned up. I'll take care of her, and meet you up at the house. It's not a problem at all."

"I'm fine," he said, shaking his head. This was his problem. He'd take care of it. His hand tightened on the reins.

John finally nodded. "I'll walk with you then, if you want."

"I won't say no, but shouldn't you be with your company?" He gestured toward the house with his free hand.

"They're our company, not just mine, and they're eating now. I told them I'd be back as soon as I could." He took Rodney's face in his hands. "It doesn't matter who's here or what they want. You're always the most important person in my life."

Rodney looked away, his eyes on the ground. "It's…it's still weird that this is…ours. It really still feels like I'm just visiting."

John hummed, leaning in for another kiss. "I'm never letting you go."

Rodney wrapped his arm around John, pulling him closer. "I know, but this is all yours."

"Ours. In all my paperwork, you own half of it now."

"You…what?" Rodney narrowed his eyes at John. He couldn't have heard that right.

John blushed, ducking his head. "I wasn't sure how to tell you, so I kept putting it off. I had them change all the paperwork. You own half of everything I do, except the business itself. And even that is because I didn't feel like getting into it with Dave. But you are in my will, that my half goes to you if anything should ever happen to me."

Rodney shook his head, dumbfounded and touched at the same time. Rodney leaned forward and kissed John gently, hand ghosting against the side of his face. "Thank you."

"I just wanted everything to be shared between us. We're partners now."

"It's still your house."

"Our house."

"Your house." Rodney's lips twitched.

John gave him a small smile. "Ours. Legally, you own half."

"Yeah, but it's still your house. It's not like we bought it together or anything." Rodney nudged John with his shoulder.

"We can sell it and go buy a house together if you want."

Rodney shook his head. "This is your home. I'm not going to ask you to change it to move just because I'm moody."

"I just want you to be happy." John caressed Rodney's face.

"I am. Don't ever think that I'm not."

"Good." John leaned in for another soft kiss.

"It's still your house," Rodney said against John's lips.

"We can work that out later," John huffed. "For now, do you want me to walk with you to the stables, or do you want to go get cleaned up while I take her in?"

"It's like an hour plus walk back to the house."

"Exactly. You can go clean up and meet me there by taking my car. To be honest, I don't plan on walking her all the way. I'll just call the stables and have them come out here in one of the carts to pick her up, then have them drop me off back at the house. I'd be thirty minutes behind you, tops."

"Why don't we walk to the car, then? At least there's a road."

"Okay. Let me call them then, and tell them to meet us there." John called and let the stables know what was happening as they started to walk back toward his car.

Eventually, the truck and trailer showed up, allowing him and John to head back to the house. He headed upstairs immediately, not really interested in showing his face at dinner—but for John, he had to.

The next morning, Rodney kicked John out of the bed and refused to be budged at o-dark-thirty. But when John came back bearing coffee, sex, and bad news, Rodney already had an inkling of what was up. He'd heard rumblings, but had ignored them so far.

They were getting dragged back out to the site, SG-1 was going to bully Dave, and Carter was, presumably, still lurking around trying to get her grimy hands on his generator.

He was planning on avoiding both O'Neill and Carter. He had no intention of speaking with either of them about anything. He was staying with John and nothing—absolutely nothing—would make him change his mind.

His mind drifted back to the evening before. O'Neill had managed to corner him, only briefly, but still... They wanted him back. It was nice to be wanted, but no. Not without John.

The fact that O'Neill had gone to John next that morning wasn't good. Apparently he was screwing up their plans for world domination, which meant that Rodney needed to make some plans of his own.

He wouldn't be bullied. He had made his choices, and he wasn't going back and second-guessing them.

Rodney had vaguely remembered seeing some devices in the Ancient lab that might work to his benefit—but he had to get there and he had to gather them without anyone else catching on. It wasn't going to be easy with an armed escort. Lorne was nice, but he had his orders.

When they got down, it looked like apes with tiny, tiny brains had been holding a convention in the place. There was broken equipment, shattered crystals on the floors, and it was... just a disaster.

Great, just great. Finding something to help him was now going to require a miracle—something he didn't do so often anymore. With a disgusted sigh, he headed deeper into the facility hoping that he'd be able to salvage something from one of the other computers and maybe be able to find something in a storage locker someone hadn't looted.

As they went deeper, they discovered it wasn't just laziness that had been an issue. The equipment that was left was, for the most part, wiped clean. John analogy of a magnet being used a wipe a hard drive was probably pretty close to the truth. Which meant someone had done something they weren't supposed to.

Was it the SGC's idiots or the NID or the Trust? God. This was just getting worse and worse. After finally kicking the military men out of the room, Rodney got to work—trying to get the system to recognize Carson as a medical doctor and also trying to locate something to help him. The only thing he could remember seeing in the database earlier was a device to help transport dangerous specimens.

He always considered John dangerous, so maybe it would work—if he could find it.

He was vaguely aware of John talking to someone on the phone nearby, and the irritation after was noticeable, but John was keeping it under control. There would be time to find out what was going on later, once he got this stupid console to do what he needed it to.

"Carson, put your hand on the console and think on," Rodney ordered, not even glancing up from his PC tablet as he tried to force the stupid console to work.

Carson edged closer and tentatively put a hand on the machine. "Is this thing going ta kill us all?"

"I sincerely hope not since I plan on getting laid tonight once you all leave," Rodney said, rolling his eyes. "Just think on."

"TMI, Rodney." Carson rolled his eyes. "And I'm thinking at it, but nothing is happening."

Rodney grumbled and switched a few crystals. "Okay, try it again."

Carson made a face, and then shook his head. "Still nothing. I can feel a bit of a current or whatever it is, but it isna responding to me."

"Damnit," Rodney cursed, banging on his tablet. "This piece of junk isn't helping either."

"What do you think the problem is?"

"If I knew that I would have fixed it already," Rodney said, glaring up at Carson.

Lorne had moved closer, and bent over to look at the console. "Anything I can do to help?"

"Stop breathing on me, for a start. You should have Carson check your sinuses since you breathe really loud."

"Hey!" Lorne gave him an injured look, but stood up straighter.

"Really. You should get that looked at."

"My breathing is just fine."

"It's loud and you sound congested. I don't need your germs in addition to the horrible sound or your breathing. You're interrupting my concentration."

Lorne sighed loudly. "I'll go breathe on the other side of the room then."

"Yes, yes, that's better. Good idea. I'm glad I thought of it," Rodney said, focusing back on the tablet. "Carson, you have to do better. Actually try to turn on the console instead of pretending to this time."

"I did try to turn it on!" Carson rolled his eyes, but put his hand back on it. Apparently, knowing it didn't work made him more confident.

"There's juice in there, so I know it should turn on. I don't want it to touch it because I'm already registered in the system."

"And I'm telling you, I can feel it humming, but it isna even acknowledging me."

"Then you're not trying hard enough."

Glaring, Carson picked up his hand. "I don't know what you want me to do. It isna responding to me."

"Put your hand back."

"Only if you'll stop accusin' me of not trying."

"Well, you're obviously not trying if you can't get it to respond."

"And I'm tellin' you, it isna me that's the problem."

Rodney glared up at his friend. "So you're saying it's me? I know what I'm doing. I may have been away from Atlantis for a while, but this is not something you forget how to do."

"No, I'm sayin' this console doesna want to recognize me, and no matter how hard I think at it, it isna going to make a difference."

"You're just not trying hard enough."

"Short of giving myself an aneurism, I canna try any harder."

Rodney narrowed his eyes at the Scot vaguely realizing that Lorne had left the room entirely. "Okay fine, let me figure something out," he said with a sigh.

"Aye, instead of haranguing me."

"I'm doing you a favor. You should stop complaining."

Carson sighed. "I know. I'm sorry. But I canna think any harder at it."

"Yes, yes, fine. You've already pointed that out," Rodney grumbled. Whoever had taken a sledgehammer to the consoles hadn't given them much to work with. This was the only console with a sufficient amount of juice to work and it was still next to near impossible to get it up and running.

He concentrated on trying to find a work-around, using the fact that he had to delve into the remaining database fragments to look for what he needed at the same time.

Rodney tried everything he could think of and even other stupid ideas on the off-chance it would work. But he kept getting the same error—Researcher already assigned. At the twentieth and last try he was starting to get angry and frustrated.

"Oh no…" he muttered, when he got the same message for the twenty-first time. He banged at the tablet PC again. "This is not funny anymore."

"Rodney?" John moved closer to him.

When had John gotten back, he vaguely thought, even as he answered the question. "The damn Ancient machinery is linked to me and won't allow me to switch it over to anyone else. It thinks I'm a goddamned genetics researcher!"

"I have a stronger gene. Want me to try?"

Rodney sighed, rubbing a hand over his face as he shook his head no. John couldn't help him. "You're the test subject. I recognize your…" He waved his hand. "Did all your relatives have that stupid hair?"

John rolled his eyes. "I have no idea. No one else in my immediate family does. Maybe have Lorne give it a shot? He's got a strong gene too, and isn't a test subject."

"I think this is why Radek's having a problem. If I can't convince a half-dead console to change administrators, then they're not going to be able to do it on the full-scale equipment they brought to Atlantis."

John sighed softly. "I've already got Peterson telling me he's going to kidnap you tomorrow morning whether I like it or not. You realize this is going to make them even more persistent."

Rodney blinked, trying to sort the name, but came up empty. "Who the hell is Peterson?"

"Remember when all this started and I told you I suspected it was the Colonel, now a General attached to the IOA, who originally gave me the black mark and threatened to destroy me when I wasn't kicked out then and there—who was pushing to have me ousted from Atlantis? Well, he just called and confirmed that it was all him, and now he's threatening to take you whether we agree to it or not."

"Great, just great."

John looked like he had aged ten years in the last few minutes. "Yeah. He has a grudge against me a mile wide, and he's taking a great deal of pleasure in hurting me any way he can. Right now, that's taking you away against your will."

Rodney turned away, trying not to let his own anger and fear show. "This just keeps getting better and better."

"Just... do what you can here. We'll figure the rest out tonight."

Rodney snorted, but turned back to the console, trying one last time. He had to do something for John. He just needed to figure out what it was. While he was trying the admin protocol again, he opened another search window, hoping like hell he would be able to find that device he vaguely remembered.

He was getting frustrated—there were hints about what he needed, but most of the relevant information was completely destroyed.

He was going to hope and pray he'd downloaded the information he needed when he was here before and it was back at the house.

With a sigh, he decided there just wasn't much more he could do here right now. He needed to see what he had at home before going any further. John, who had been talking quietly with Lorne, glanced over. "Any luck?"

He shook his head as he stood up and tried to straighten up. His back was killing him. "Apparently I need to add another PhD to the end of my name, as if my name wasn't long enough already. Whatever's left here is ruined. I just hope the SGC got everything before someone did this."

"I already reported it, and they're tracking down some leads, including Gordon and the others who were interested in this land before we handed it over. Let's pack up and head out then. No sense staying here if we can't get anything useful done."

Rodney nodded silently, following John back to the car after he gathered all of his tools and cables. He spent the entire trip home in silence, turning everything over and over in his mind. He needed that stupid device. He had to find it.

As soon as John pulled the car into the driveway and stopped, Rodney was opening the door. "I'm going to my lab. I want to hook the computer up to what I have here."

John nodded. "I'll be in my office. I do have some things that need my attention. Nothing urgent, but it does need to get done in the next week or so."

Rodney didn't stay long enough to hear what Carson and Lorne's plans were, and honestly, he didn't care right now.

As soon as he was back in his lab, he plugged into his private system. He needed to compare what he had gotten today with what he had from before.

It took him a while to sort through everything, but he was pleased to find that he hadn't imagined the device. He had a record of it in his segment of the database. Now he just had to figure out where it was in the lab and pray no one had taken it.

The store room they had found was only one of two, with the device in question being kept in a smaller room reserved for some of its builder's more interesting gadgets. Rodney needed to figure out how to get to it without tipping off the SGC before he had it safely stashed away.

But first he needed to go back to the lab. He grabbed his tablet—cords dragging from it—and headed for the garage where he kept his car. He paused outside of John's closed office door, debating whether or not to ask John to go with him.

"If you open that door, you will regret it." Scarlett's voice rang out from across the hall.

Rodney turned, narrowing his eyes at her. "Why?"

"He's brooding."

"And that's new why?"

She narrowed her eyes at him. "If you so much as put a hand on the door, I will use a dull knife to ensure you never enjoy the pleasures of the body ever again."

Rodney gasped and took a step back. "You…what?"

"You heard me. I will make it painful and long."

Rodney swallowed and backed away. "I'll just be…" he gestured over his shoulder.

"Yes. That sounds like a much better plan. Good boy."

Rodney scowled at her, but didn't argue. She was scary when she was protective. Rodney patted his pocket, making sure he had his phone. John would call when he discovered he was gone and Rodney didn't need him doing the hero thing either.

Turning, he headed toward the garage. Carson—of course—stepped out of the media room as he was headed out.

Lorne tried to stop him to start a conversation, but Rodney knew he only had a narrow window. Technically, O'Neill hadn't authorized him to go back, but if the same Marines were still there from earlier, he could bluff his way though. Probably.

"Gotta go," he said as he ran past.

He thought he heard Carson give some kind of acknowledgement, but he didn't turn back to make sure.

It didn't take long to get back to the property. He parked as close as they would let him and was pleased he wasn't questioned as he stormed his way back into the lab. There was one military grunt left in the room, wandering around with wide-open eyes. A newbie.

Rodney was, for one of the few times in his life, grateful the SGC assigned someone wholly inadequate to do a job. He ordered the soldier out with a terse command, and the boy went without even pausing to question it.

Now, he just had to find the damn device.

Plugging back into the console he had worked on earlier, now Rodney was equipped with his back-up database. He was able, with some work, to get the mainframe to recognize him as an ancillary terminal.

It took some doing, but he managed to track down the smaller storage areas. Thankfully, they weren't destroyed.

He quickly moved into the one his inventory had directed him to. Jackpot.

He rifled through the drawer, comparing what he found with the inventory list. He finally found the two bracelets at the bottom—one with the symbol for "subject", the other branded with "researcher". These were the items he wanted.

Silently congratulating himself, he stashed them at the bottom of his backpack and headed back to the console room. Now that he had those secured, he could focus on getting the damn thing to recognize someone else as the researcher.

Rodney got lost in the data, trying to think like the Ancients and work through all of their protocols and admin restrictions. It was slow going, though, and his head ached from the constant translation from Ancient to English. He was out of practice.

He ate an MRE he bummed off of the soldier guarding the door when his stomach growled, going right back to work as soon as he finished it.

When his phone went off, buzzing in his pocket, he shocked the hell out of him. He had forgotten it was there.

He fumbled with it, almost dropping it. He answered it on the fourth ring just before it switched to voicemail. "What?"

"Hey. We're sitting down to dinner, and Carson said he saw you leaving earlier. Thought I'd check in with you."

"I'm busy," Rodney said, saving the searches he was doing.

"Where are you?"

"The lab." Rodney cringed, waiting for the yelling to begin.

John's voice, predictably, went up several octaves. "In the woods? By yourself?"

"I'm definitely not alone. There's a platoon of military people outside," he said defensively.

"Why did you go back there? I would have gone with you."

"Scarlett wouldn't let me bother you. She said you were brooding."

John huffed. "Maybe. But it was mostly over the potential of losing you. And she knows you're always welcome."

"Actually, she threatened me with losing my manhood if I walked in. For the first time since I hired her she scared me."

"And you wonder why I do what she says." John laughed softly. "All right, when will you be home? Should we wait on you for dinner?"

"No. I grabbed an MRE from one of the idiots guarding the door. I forgot how much I liked some of these, especially the ones with the brownies for dessert."

John made a gagging noise. "Those things are disgusting."

Rodney shrugged to himself. "I like knowing what's in them. Every ingredient is spelled out. Helps put my mind at ease."

"Katie isn't going to poison you. She's more neurotic about food than you are."

"I know. But I'm not home now, am I?"

John's tone went serious again. "Rodney, they've been threatening to kidnap you and you just left the house without telling anyone?"

"I know, I know," he said with a sigh. "But I needed to do this."

"Rodney, you need to think sometimes." He could almost hear John trying to be understanding. "All right, when will you be home then? And what are you doing back out there?"

He almost wanted to argue with John that he had been thinking, but he also didn't want to fight so he went for the easy way out. "Ah…when I'm finished I'll be home. I needed to check a few things and see if I could pull anything else out of this mainframe. I did manage to grab a few files and directories this afternoon."

"So I shouldn't wait up for you then." John's sigh was soft. He was trying to curtail his hero tendencies, Rodney would at least give him that.

Rodney glanced toward the door and lowered his voice. "Well, I'm sure I can make it worth your while if you did."

With a hum, the whole tone of John's voice changed. "That's evil."

Rodney laughed quietly, pleased that he could do that to his husband with just a few words. "See you in a while."

He hung up, knowing that John was probably already half-hard just in anticipation.

With a smile on his face, he got back to work knowing he'd be able to have a little fun when he got home—right before he tied them together with some Ancient equipment.

It didn't take him much longer to finish up, and he packed away his equipment, careful not to jostle the cuffs at the bottom too much.

Thankfully no one questioned him—or looked into his backpack—otherwise he might have had an issue in trying to explain why he was more or less stealing alien equipment. Yeah, that would not go over well with John or the SGC.

He made it home with no issues, and detoured to the dining room when he heard quiet voices.

John was still sitting in there with Carson and Lorne, the remains of coffee and cake on the table in front of them. He gave them a tired smile. "Sorry I missed dinner."

John immediately stood and came over to wrap his arms around Rodney. "Hey there."

"Sorry again," Rodney said, leaning into John's body, relaxing immediately. He'd known leaving without John might be a problem, but he was glad that the other man was letting it slide—this time. "I didn't think it would take as long as it did."

"S'okay. Did you get what you needed?"

"Not really," Rodney said not wanting to really go into what he did do in front of anyone else. He spotted John's half eaten piece of cake. "Any of that left?"

"Of course." John stepped back and took Rodney's pack. "Sit down, and I'll have the kitchen bring you out a plate."

"I can go get it," he said, taking a step to the kitchen.

John put out a hand to stop him. "Let me take care of you tonight. Okay?"

Rodney paused for a minute, holding John's gaze for a long moment. There was a sense of desperation almost in John's body and his eyes. Rodney nodded, acquiescing, settling into a nearby chair. He could feel Carson's and Lorne's eyes on him, could feel their surprise, but he ignored their looks.

"So, what did you find? Anything that will stop the blasted thing from draining the city?" Carson leaned back in his chair, sipping on a cup of coffee.

"I don't know," Rodney said with a shrug, rubbing his face. "It's a mess there."

"Any ideas what did the damage?" Lorne asked. "If we know that, it might help us pinpoint who did it."

"No. No idea. It could be someone at the SGC with an agenda or the Trust or NID for all we know. I'm sorry I don't have better news."

Lorne shrugged. "That's what I figured, but I had to ask. We're beaming out after dinner, so I'm sure the general will want to debrief me."

"That soon?"

Carson sighed. "We originally had a few more days, but they've recalled us all tonight."

"Damn," Rodney said silently, knowing he had to do something fast to make sure they didn't steal him out of his bed or something. "Did you at least get to do anything on Earth besides work?"

"Well, your husband put me on a bloody horse."

Rodney chuckled, pulling John's half-eaten plate of cake over to him and taking a bite. "Well, you had that coming. I was talking about movies or something fun."

John returned as Rodney finished the cake, putting a plate of food in front of him. "Katie says you can't have dessert until you eat something healthy."

Rodney scowled, but didn't complain. The food looked and smelled amazing.

As he started to eat, Lorne picked the conversation back up. "I haven't had a chance to go see any movies, but I'll have some time to hit up a few stores before we head back out. Any suggestions for some good flicks to pick up?"

"There are lots of them," he said around a mouth full of food. "Just check John's media room. I think he has most everything that's halfway decent."

Lorne chuckled. "I don't want to steal you guys' movies. If you can recommend a few, that would be great. Otherwise, I'll just grab anything that looks halfway interesting in the store."

"You expect me to remember them all?"

"Not all. Just give me a few that were good enough to stick in your mind."

"Um…" he turned toward John. "You can do it."

They continued to chat about movies, then moved on to music. As Rodney finished the dessert Katie had finally sent out for him, it was time for Carson and Lorne to get going.

There was a weird lump in his throat as he said goodbye to Carson and Lorne. In a way, this was worse than when he left Atlantis before. This was sad and quiet—and not in a good way. John seemed to sense his mood—or even shared it—and they ended up curled together on the couch.

Halfway through the movie, Simon popped in. "Sir, you have a visitor."

Rodney barely held back his groan of "What now?"

"A visitor?" John sat up and blinked. "Who is it? We aren't expecting anyone."

Simon was as polite as usual. "He did not wish to share his name, but said you would know him."

John caught Rodney's eye, and they shared a long look. John looked as confused as Rodney felt. "I guess show him in here then."

Simon looked uncomfortable. "He prefers you come to him, sir."

John suddenly looked sick. . "Is he an older man, military—whether in uniform or just the way he holds himself—with a really craggy face and permanent frown?"

Simon nodded, looking almost relieved. "Yes, sir. You do know him."

"Peterson." John scowled and looked at Rodney. "I don't really want to deal with him tonight, especially not in person, but we might not have a choice. I'm sure as hell not going to play by his rules in my own home."

"John, we also don't need to antagonize him either," Rodney said. He definitely didn't want to do anything before Rodney was prepared. He hadn't had the chance to tell John about the cuffs or even test them out.

They decided to go meet the general in the formal living room. It was rarely used, but John seemed to think they needed the clout the atmosphere of the room would give them.

Rodney had never met Peterson before, and once the man walked into the room, wished he never had. He was everything John wasn't and Rodney could see why the man put John on edge. Hell, the man was there less than a minute and Rodney was already thinking of creative ways to kill him without leaving a trace.

It was like Peterson wasn't even hearing them. He just talked right over John, and demanded that Rodney be ready to go first thing in the morning. He even tried making it an order, like Rodney was some kind of grunt who did what he was told.

Peterson was going to get a shocking dose of reality.

When he finally left after issuing his imperious demands, Rodney was surprised to see John had actually started shaking with rage. He hadn't known people could do that outside of bad novels.

Rodney reached out, tentative and gentle. He knew John wouldn't hurt him, but like this…like this anything could happen.

John started slightly when Rodney touched him, then immediately took a few deep breaths. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean for that to get so out of hand so fast."

"He's an asshole."

"Yeah." John let out a breath. "He always was. He doesn't care about anyone but himself, to the point where he'll get other people killed to make himself look good."

Rodney nodded to himself. It was time to let John in on his little side-trip. "Come on," he said quietly. "Let's go upstairs, take a shower, and try to relax. Okay?"

They walked upstairs, but John didn't follow him as he moved to the bathroom. So, Rodney left John staring out the window, still working through his anger. Rodney knew he would join him in the shower when he was ready.

Rodney pulled off his clothes and stepped into the shower, letting the hot water pound on the tense muscles of his back. This whole situation sucked. Why had he gotten involved with Gordon in the first place? Why had he looked into the property? Why? Why? Why?

He heard someone talking, but the water obscured what John was saying.

"John?" He turned, squinting through the glass. Was John still dressed? "What are you doing out there with clothes on?"

"Admiring you." John stripped and got in the shower, pulling Rodney into his arms. Rodney could feel the tension his husband was still carrying from the encounter with The Asshole. "They're taking you and I can't stop them."

"We'll see about that," Rodney said with a smile, trying to soothe his husband. He had plans—and they had better work. "How about we just enjoy ourselves right now and then go and watch some television?"

"I'll try. I just... God. Losing you would kill me, you know that right? I can't function anymore without you."

"Just trust me. Okay?" Rodney smoothed back John's hair with a gentle touch of his hand.

John nodded, his body melting into Rodney's. "Always."

"Good," Rodney said, taking John into his hands and kissing him, wanting to take away the fear he saw in his lover's eyes. It was unsettling to see that in John—someone who could stand up to anything and anyone. Rodney just wanted to take it all away.

It was... humbling to know he was John's weakness. That losing him was the one thing that could inspire that fear. John loved him. Really loved him. Rodney knew it, but seeing this evidence just made him more determined not to let the IOA fuck it up.

Rodney took John to their bed and loved him, trying to calm his fears, trying to show his own love. He knew he hadn't told John about the cuff things yet, but maybe it was time for more showing and less telling.

He reached over to snag one of the cuffs, thankful he'd grabbed the right one the first time out and after pressing John's hands up over his head and against the sheet, snapped one cuff around John's left wrist, mentally telling it to lock.

John's eyes opened and he looked at the cuff, blinking a few times. "What...?"

He turned to John after he wrapped the other cuff around his own wrist, locking it down and getting the twice flash of light that let him know it was working—just like the database said. "You are a dangerous test subject in transport."

John nodded, his eyes wide. He stood up and moved around a bit, starting to move away from Rodney.

"John…you might not want to do that," Rodney said, feeling a weird sensation from the bracelet, a warning that the "subject" was moving away from him. He knew what the database had said about shocks and unconsciousness and he didn't want John to find out the hard way.

John shivered and returned to the bed immediately. "All yours. Completely."

Rodney nodded, licking his lips, suddenly a lot more nervous than he'd been seconds ago. He wished he would have told John about it earlier. "Well, it'll shock you into unconsciousness if you're more than about five feet away from me. But it also has the ability to connect the two cuffs together, linking them. Then you can't be separated unless I give the command to detach them. I figure we might want to get dressed in the morning and attach them. Or…tonight, if you want."

John blinked a few more times, then his eyes widened. He moaned softly and swayed toward Rodney.

"I did opposite hands figuring it would be easier," Rodney said, needing to explain, worried what John would say. "I know you're not really into all of the bondage stuff, but it was the only thing I could think of and I had seen something in the database for the facility in the woods and I needed to go back and see if I could find it. I didn't know what else I could do and you looked like I killed your dog or something and I just couldn't handle having that look on your face."

John nodded, smiling softly.

He just…he couldn't let John think he'd choose Atlantis over him. He wouldn't. Not now. This was his home now—John was his family now.

John pulled Rodney into his arms for a heated kiss. "This is perfect. You're perfect. I never would have thought of this."

Rodney blushed a little. "If they want me, they get both of us."

"And they most definitely don't want me. So hopefully, you'll be safe, too."

"Did you want to stay here or go inside?" Rodney asked, threading their fingers together, pushing the cuffs together so they clinked softly.

"I just want you."

"Well, of course," Rodney said with a smile as he glanced down at their wrists, giving the mental command to link the two bracelets. "I promise to try not to pull your arm out of its socket."

"I'm not worried." With a soft, happy noise, John pulled Rodney onto the bed.

Rodney tried to brace himself so he didn't crush the other man. He knew he wasn't exactly a lightweight. "I also thought your left hand would be better since you use your gun with your right and don't think I didn't notice that your handgun has ended up in our bed."

John's blush spread from his face to his chest. "Well, I wanted to be prepared. You know. In case they tried to take you by force."

"They're going to get quite the surprise, aren't they?" Rodney smirked down at him.

John agreed—and then proceeded to fuck Rodney senseless. Apparently they should play with a little light bondage more often if it got this kind of result. Rodney dropped off to sleep content in John's arms—only to wake up when he got a very cold sensation along his entire backside—thanks to waking up on the cold deck of the bridge of the Daedalus.

Once comprehension hit, he was struggling to his feet and pulling John with him. "What do you think you're doing? We're civilians and you've kidnapped a Canadian national from his bed in the middle of the night! I want to be sent back immediately!"

He saw Caldwell standing on the bridge, struggling to keep his eyes on Rodney's face.

Rodney pointed at Caldwell, taking a step forward. "What the hell do you think you're doing? I'm a civilian! You have no right to beam people from private residences."

"Following orders, Doctor."

Rodney lifted his chin and scowled at Caldwell, crossing his arms over his chest. "Your orders were to beam two naked men onto the bridge of the Daedalus? I find that hard to believe."

"No, Doctor. My orders were to beam you aboard. I was... informed that you were aware of the departure time." Behind him, Rodney was aware of John trying to hide behind him.

"And I said, no. I'm a civilian. I resigned from the SGC. You have no right to beam me anywhere without my consent. Send me back and send me back now or else I will make sure to get the Canadian government on your ass about kidnapping a Canadian citizen. And don't think I won't do it."

Rodney stood up, dragging a bright red John along with him, as he talked. Caldwell just looked pissed. "I'll have to get permission to beam you back, Doctor. And Colonel Sheppard was not, to my understanding, coming on this voyage. I'm not entirely sure why he was beamed aboard as well."

Rodney held up his hand, showing the cuff linking them together. It was one of the bridge crew who replied, however. "We couldn't get a single lock, sir. They were…too closely together."

John popped his head up over Rodney's shoulder, chiming in. "I actually can't be more than about five feet away from him with these things on, even when they're not locked together. Otherwise, my understanding is that I'll be rendered unconscious until he gets back. He classified me as a 'Dangerous Substance' I believe."

It was oddly amusing to see how confused Caldwell was with the whole situation. "A what?"

"I am the researcher and he's the research subject who is being transported. With these cuffs on," he said tugging his and John's hand into the air, "John goes anywhere I go. So right now, you will send us back to John's house and our bedroom and you can go on your merry way."

Peterson took that moment to come striding in, O'Neill and SG-1 following behind, along with Carson and Lorne. It was kind of funny, actually, to see them all turn universally a nice shade of pink. "What the hell is this?"

"This is what happens when you kidnap a Canadian citizen from his bed," Rodney said, glaring at Peterson. He had had enough of the man's pompous attitude. If he chose to kidnap him from bed, he was going to get an eyeful. Rodney put his hands on his hips challenging Peterson to make the next move.

Peterson's eyebrows drew together. "What the hell is this, McKay? You knew what time we were leaving, and I was very specific as to who was coming along."

"The name's Sheppard, as you very well know, and I didn't agree to this little excursion. I said no. So you can beam us back where we belong now."

"No is not an option." Peterson glared at him.

"It's always an option. John and I are both civilians. If I'm here any longer I'm going to file a formal complaint with your government for harassment and kidnapping. See how you like things then." Rodney smirked at him. He knew his rights and this was in complete violation of them.

Peterson's stare turned hard and cold. "Colonel Caldwell, prepare to beam them back down. McKay, you will be returned to this ship in one hour. Be ready to depart then."

"No."

"We're leaving in one hour." He actually had the gall to pronounce each syllable as if he were talking to a dense child.

Peterson was an idiot—and an idiot with power was the worst kind. "An hour is not going to change anything," Rodney said, his back straightening. "My answer is still no. Are you as dumb as the scientists who used to work for me that you don't understand the meaning of a simple two-lettered word? No. Absolutely not. I'm not going anywhere with you and as soon as I'm back in my bedroom, I'm going to have my personal assistant file a complaint. Don't be surprised if the President wants your ass in his office explaining how you harassed, kidnapped, and traumatized a Canadian citizen because you could."

"The President is already aware that we're re-recruiting you, McKay. He signed off on it. Whether you like it or not, we need you on Atlantis. I'll see you in an hour. Caldwell, beam them down."

"The name is Sheppard. And I'm. Not. Going." Rodney narrowed his eyes.

"Not an option. End of discussion. See you in an hour, McKay." Peterson nodded at the bridge tech, who immediately beamed them back down.

"Well, that went well," Rodney said with a sigh. He glanced around the dimly lit room. "Where's my cell?"

John pointed at the phone on the table. "I think that one is yours. And we should probably unlock long enough to clean up and get dressed. I'd rather not repeat the whole standing in front of a room full of soldiers and facing down a general naked thing again. I might be scarred for life now. The SGC is going to get a therapy bill."

"I have no intention of getting dressed," Rodney said, pulling John as he moved across the room. "This is what they're going to get." He had no intention of releasing John in case they were monitoring them somehow and waiting for an opening to grab him. Alone they'd never send him back.

"At least let me put on boxers?"

Rodney nodded as he grabbed the phone. "If you want to get dressed you can," after a moment's thought—and seeing how red John still was—added, "I'll unlock you, but you have to stay within a few feet. And I have no intention of making this easy for them."

John nodded. "I'll stay mostly naked to support the cause, but I'm pretty sure I can't handle staring at my former Marines while my dick is flapping around in the wind."

Rodney turned to him with a smirk. "I can make you stand at attention if you'd prefer."

"Evil bastard." John grinned and kissed Rodney softly. "Do you want a pair, or do you want to go back naked again?"

"This is how they're going to get me," Rodney said, gesturing to himself. "I have no intention of making it easy on any of them." He flipped his phone open and dialed Scarlett. He didn't care of she was sleeping, either. He paid her—well, John did—to be available. "Did you need to pee or anything? I can walk in there with you because I don't think either of us wants to do the unconscious thing."

"Yeah, I think I have to go. Do you want to wipe any of the come off you? I can do that when I'm done. It has to be uncomfortable."

Huh? Rodney glanced down at his body, realizing how they must have looked on the ship. No wonder they were keeping their eyes up front and center. "Oh. Huh. We never did that, did we?"

"No." John disappeared into the bathroom, coming out a few minutes later with a pair of boxers on. "We both fell asleep right after."

Scarlett only picked up as John appeared again. "What took you so long to answer? I need you to contact the Canadian embassy. I want to file a formal complaint."

John had a washcloth in his hand and started cleaning the come off as Rodney talked. Scarlett didn't bat an eye. "I was sleeping. It's Sunday and you usually aren't up this early."

"I don't care if you were fucking. You need to answer your phone."

"I'm here aren't I? Now what do you need?"

"I need you to find the complaint letters—use one and two—and send them to the complaints distribution list. You need to do it now."

"The who with the what? Slow down. What I am complaining about, and who am I complaining to?"

Rodney shifted as John's hands gently moved him. "Complaint letters one and two. They're on the server. And you need to send it to the complaint distribution list. It's set up already."

"You actually have a distribution list for complaints? Wow. I don't know what to say to that."

"Of course, I do. You need to be prepared for things like this."

"Okay, I have the two letters open. Do I need to make any changes, or am I sending these out as-is?"

"As-is."

"Right. Sending now. Anything else?"

"No. I need you to draft another letter to the president and Canadian prime minister about the harassment of an important Canadian citizen at the hands of the US military."

There was a pause. "You want me to write a letter to the heads of state in two countries about harassment."

"Yes."

She sighed. "Let me get in the shower and then I'll be in and get it done."

Rodney vaguely saw John's hand hovering next to him and he took it, locking the cuffs together again as they moved back into the bedroom. "I want you to draft it now. I don't care what you're doing."

"This can't wait? Fine." She huffed. "I've got a laptop here. Give me a few minutes to draft something up."

"Call me back in ten minutes. I expect you to have it done." He closed his phone with a snap and looked at John.

"Do you think that will actually do anything? The complaint I mean?"

"I don't know," he said with a shrug. "But I said I was going to do it."

Smiling, John leaned in for a brief kiss. "Their faces were priceless. But I'm going to have to kick Carter's ass. She was ogling yours."

"I'd let you, too," Rodney said with a smile. He took a breath, knowing they really needed to talk about this whole thing. "We need to know what we'd agree to, John. Peterson's not going to take 'no' for an answer. What are we willing to do?"

He sighed, nodding. "Hopefully O'Neill will get involved so he'll deal. I think we should demand it's both of us or nothing, and we need to get a guarantee that we can get there and back through the gate, not on the Daedalus. We have Maddie, and we'll tell them we can be away a week, maybe two at most, on a 'business trip' from her, but after that, we go home."

"Yeah. We can't add six weeks to the trip because they're refusing to use their ZedPMs. I know the SGC has one or two now, and Atlantis does as well."

"Exactly." John smiled. "Lorne mentioned they were using one to return home, too. They don't want me there, so I'm the guarantee they send you home when it's time, and don't come up with an excuse to keep you."

"I think they need you there and I'm not just saying that to make you feel better," Rodney said with a brief smile as he thought back to what he'd gone through in the database. "I think the system linked to both of us and without both of us present, it's not going to work."

"I doubt they'll believe it, but later, when they're apologizing, we'll tell them that's one of the reasons we insisted."

"And I want to be paid, too," Rodney said firmly. "As much as I…worry about Carson and Lorne and Zelenka, I'm not doing this out of the goodness of my heart. They fired you and forced you out."

"I know, and I agree. But ask what you would for any type of consulting job, since that's essentially what this is. Don't demand more or less because of our history. And you know, if they do accept our terms, we should have bags packed so we're not clothes-less in Atlantis."

"They can wait a day for us to get our things together," Rodney said, resting his free hand on John's leg as they curled in toward each other. "You have to contact MIT, too. You have your defense next week."

"Shit, I forgot about that." John sat up and ran a hand through his hair. "Do you think they'll let me put it off, or is the IOA screwing me out of my degree, too?"

"You usually have some leeway and you can use the excuse that it's an issue of national security," Rodney said with a smile. "It is, in a way."

John snorted. "Hopefully the IOA will agree to our terms and give us the time."

"We don't go if they don't," Rodney shrugged. "It's that simple."

"I hope this works."

Rodney scowled. "If they do kidnap us and force us to work, well…then they've just screwed the pooch because they'll get no help from us—or some others I imagine."

"But they might not realize it until it's too late. At least to stop them from kidnapping us this time."

"I agree," Rodney said, letting out a soft sigh as he looked up at John, seeing the worried lines on his face and the touch of grey at his temples. It had been a hard two years and it didn't seem like it was getting better. "Are you okay with this?"

"If we don't stand our ground now, I'll lose you. They'll either rail-road you into staying, or just force the issue. Either way, once you were there, I have a feeling getting you out again would become problematic."

He nodded. He had come to much the same conclusion once Peterson had gotten into the mix. "I agree."

"So let's see what they say when they beam us back." John glanced down at Rodney's body. "You sure you don't want boxers?"

Rodney's mouth twisted in a knowing smile. "Would you be more comfortable if I had them on?"

He loved that he could make John blush. "I'm kind of a jealous bastard who doesn't want everyone else seeing you."

Rodney laughed and leaned in, kissing John lightly. "You're funny when you're jealous and possessive. I'll get them."

John smiled, the flush still riding high on his cheeks.

"Come on," Rodney said, tugging John to his feet as they moved across the room. "You know, for any real length of time, this is going to be pretty annoying."

"Once they agree to our terms, we can probably take them off, or at least not have them directly connected."

"If we have them on you still have to be within a few feet of me." He had no intention of shocking John into unconsciousness—which was a big reason why he debated about using them in the first place.

"That will be easier than being directly connected. I won't be doing anything else once we're on our way anyway. I'm just along as eye-candy."

"We'll see. We're married you know. Maybe I'll be permitted conjugal visits." Rodney gave John a wink.

John snorted. "We WILL be rooming together. Period. We're married, and I'm not going to pretend otherwise."

Rodney was quiet for a moment, looking down at their clasped hands as his mind spun back to their adventure this morning. "It was certainly interesting to see their eyes bugging out."

"Yeah. I can guarantee that was not what they were expecting."

"Yeah, no." Rodney smiled wryly. "We could always try to make sure we're in the shower when they beam us out the next time. That could be fun."

John looked horrified. "Only if we're wearing bathing suits. I don't really think I can take being naked in front of the entire crew again."

Rodney couldn't hold in his laugher at John's expression, but reached for the drawer that held his underwear. "Come on. Live a little."

"Scarred. For. Life. You know my mother keeps trying to trick me into therapy. After this, I might just let her."

Rodney just couldn't help himself as he laughed at John's discomfort. He rifled around in the drawer until he picked out some of his more obnoxious joke underwear he'd never gotten rid of.

"Here's an idea, instead of being naked, we could find the most ridiculous underthings to be in when they beam us around. I could see you in one of those numbers that turns your cock into an elephant's trunk."

"Underthings?" Rodney asked with a strangled laugh.

John shrugged. "Well, they aren't underwear, since most of the ones I've seen aren't particularly wearable long-term, and they aren't boxers by any stretch of the imagination. So. Underthings."

"Underthings? What planet are you from anyway?"

"They're things you wear under your clothes! What's wrong with that?"

Rodney rolled his eyes as his phone rang. "What?"

"I have a draft done."

He shifted the mouthpiece to talk to John. "Pick out whatever you want. I have a g-string in there somewhere, too."

"No offense, but I'd rather not."

Rodney rolled his eyes. "No, that wasn't for you. Did you do what I told you?"

 

He could almost hear Scarlett rolling her eyes as John walked away laughing. "Did you not hear what I said not three seconds ago? I have a draft ready."

"Good. I want you to send it to everyone on the complaint email group. You can access it on my laptop."

"Is it the same one I sent the letters to earlier?"

"Yes, it's the same one but this is a different letter," he said as John dangled a G-string in his face. He shifted the phone again. "Are you sure?"

"No, but it would be really fucking funny to see their faces." John grinned.

"Okay," Rodney said, turning his attention back to the phone. "What?"

"I said do you have any idea how anal it is to have multiple groups set up for various types of complaints."

"No, I am not anal. I just like to be prepared and that email group is just one of the ones I've set up. I knew I'd have to complain about my treatment at the hands of the US government at some point, so I wanted to have easy access to the important names. I update it regularly, too."

"Okay, yeah, that is the definition of anal. But I'll get this out to the list as soon as we hang up."

"Good. Make sure you send it with high priority and get a return and read receipt."

"Tell you what, Mr. Neurotic. Stay on the line and I'll send it now so you don't have to worry." He heard clicking in the background. "There. Done."

"Good. So it's sent? Let me know as soon as you get a reply." He snapped the phone closed and looked at his husband who was still sorting underwear. "Pick something, John."

 

"Where did you get all this stuff, and why do you own it?"

Rodney shrugged. "I've had them. I don't even remember where half of them came from."

John rooted around a bit again, then pulled out a pair of tighty-whities that weren't white—they were the Canadian flag plastered all over his bits and pieces.

Rodney had forgotten he had those. He'd gotten them years ago and they were a bit tight, if he remembered correctly. But if John wanted them… "You sure?"

He nodded. "At least you'll be covered, and it makes a statement."

Rodney's mouth twitched. "I think I know what really matters to you in this case and it's not the political statement."

Grinning, John handed the pair over. "Can I help it if I'm a jealous bastard when it comes to you?"

Rodney managed to get into the underwear—just barely—and adjusted them before looking up at John who was giving him a very weird look.

"On second thought..."

"What? I'm covered."

"You have no idea how sexy you are, do you?"

"My body is just a repository for my awesome brain," Rodney said, his mouth twitching up into a smile. "Although, the sensory input is far greater than an android from what I can tell."

"Okay, no. You're fucking beautiful."

Rodney smiled at John, grateful for the compliment. They managed to get something for breakfast before the Daedalus insisted on beaming them up once again. They really needed to make the temperature warmer on the bridge. This time Caldwell, Peterson, and O'Neill were all there. Rodney rolled his eyes at O'Neill's smirk as soon as he saw how they were dressed.

"I guess I'm going to have to file yet another complaint," Rodney said as he glared at the two Generals.

"McKay..." Peterson was practically growling.

"I did say no," Rodney said smugly.

"Conference room. Now." Peterson turned and walked out.

Rodney stood there, staring at Caldwell and O'Neill. "So, General, how long do you think it'll take for him to come back?"

"Doctor...." Caldwell looked like he was, in fact, going to have that cow. "Whatever it is you're trying to achieve, your best bet of obtaining that outcome is probably by going and talking to him. I give you my pledge that we will not break orbit until this is taken care of."

O'Neill chuckled. "I give him five minutes. I told him this wasn't going to work, but he didn't want to believe me."

"Is he normally that dense?" Rodney asked.

O'Neill rolled his eyes. "You have no idea. He's been like this since they brought him on board. This is good for him. He hasn't had anyone really challenge him since Sheppard went and not only disobeyed his bad orders, but lived to tell the tale."

Rodney rolled his eyes and snorted before turning back to Caldwell. "And what is this pledge thing?"

"My word of honor." Caldwell grimaced. "I don't want you on my deck in... that... any more than you want to be here. The sooner this is sorted out, the happier I will be."

"What's wrong with my attire?" Rodney asked, shifting on his bare feet, as he looked down his mostly naked body—and his really small patriotic underwear.

"Please..." Caldwell's expression was pained. "Please get off my deck and tell General O'Neill what it will take to make you happy. The General has agreed to play mediator for this... conference."

"Sending me home will make me happy."

O'Neill shrugged drawing their attention back to him. "Unfortunately, to be honest, Atlantis needs you too much for Peterson to walk away. And he knows it. But if you're willing to negotiate, I think we can find a compromise everyone can live with."

"McKay! Get your ass in here!" Peterson's voice was coming from down the hall.

"That's not my name!" Rodney yelled back.

John sighed. "This isn't accomplishing anything. Let's just go talk and get this over with." He started walking down the hall after O'Neill, dragging Rodney along with him.

"Refusing to acknowledge the fact that I'm married is a big deal. I'm not going to let it slide," Rodney huffed, annoyed that John was giving in and manhandling him down the hall.

"I agree. But Caldwell and O'Neill aren't the ones calling you McKay. Peterson is, and he's in here."

"It still makes a difference," Rodney grumbled under his breath.

They all took seats around the conference room table, with Peterson looking like he was ready to blow something out of his ears. John spoke up again, obviously trying to get things moving in the right direction. "If you want our cooperation, you can start by using Rodney's correct name."

John tried, he really did, but Peterson was refusing to listen and ended up spending the next five minutes degrading their marriage and everything about them—and then demanded Rodney release John. Which was a big, fat, absolutely you can rot in hell before I let him go, no.

John rolled his eyes, obviously tired of playing the game. "If you want our cooperation, you're going to have to ask, not demand, and it's going to be on our terms. We're not your military flunkies, we don't ask how high when you say jump."

O'Neill, thankfully was a little more reasonable, once John refused to talk to Peterson anymore.

When they finally got to the point where they could tell O'Neill exactly what they wanted, John ticked the items off on his fingers, glancing at Rodney to make sure he had them all.

"One, it's both of us or neither of us. Two, you give us a few days to set up business so it can run without us. Three, we will be charging Rodney's regular consulting fee. Four, we use the gate to go there and back because, five, we're only yours for two weeks, max. We're raising Rodney's niece as our own now. We can get away with telling Madison we have a business trip for that long, but neither of us is comfortable leaving her for any longer than that, not at her age, and not with everything she's been through already."

"There's no way you can only be gone for two weeks. We don't have that kind of power at the SGC to use the gate like that," Peterson said, his scowl deepening. Rodney was convinced Peterson was an idiot even more now.

"Then we don't go." John shrugged. "I'm not putting the welfare of Madison at stake. She is our primary responsibility right now."

"Not going is not an option. It's going to take two months at the very least, not two weeks," Peterson said, but Rodney cut in.

"You have two ZPMs. And you are planning on using one to send Lorne and Carson home. Those are our terms. Ball's in your court."

John nodded, looking at O'Neill and ignoring Peterson completely. Rodney was amused to see how much his husband seemed to be enjoying this. "We're willing to work with you to a point. But we have lives now, and responsibilities that have nothing to do with the SGC. That was the military's choice, not ours. Now you have to live with it."

O'Neill scowled. "Could you to be ready to leave in two days without any other stalling tactics?"

John and Rodney exchanged a long look. If they were going to abide by their demands, yes, it was okay. John finally nodded. "I think we could be ready to go by then, yes."

"But you agree to our terms?" Rodney asked, pinning O'Neill with a hard look.

He didn't look happy, but he nodded. "Tentatively, yes."

Peterson broke in. "No. I don't agree. This is foolishness. You will be coming with us, McKay, and Sheppard will remain here on Earth."

"It's all or nothing," Rodney said, holding firm.

"I get it." O'Neill sent a glare at Peterson. Surprisingly, the other General sat back down. "You two are going to be the death of me."

"Get used to it. You're the one who made this mess in the first place." Rodney refused to give O'Neill any leeway.

O'Neill shook his head. "I'm not the one who made that decision, or supported it, but yes, I get to be the one who cleans it up. I'm starting to think my title is General Janitor."

"Well, you're the one who keeps dishing out the crap…" Rodney said, adding "sir" a few seconds later. "You should be the one to clean it up."

O'Neill made a face. "I do have one request, however. And this is not negotiable."

Rodney immediately tensed. "Which is?"

"For fuck's sake, put some clothes on."

After a beat, John started laughing, and Rodney had to admit, it was pretty amusing. He started chuckling a few beats later. "I think you can count on that. We just wanted to make a point about snatching people out of their bedrooms without permission."

"Point made and I swear half the crew is going to have to go to therapy now. Just…get out of here. We'll contact you before your departure in two days."

John nodded and gave O'Neill a small salute. Peterson looked like he was going to blow at any moment. "Will do, sir."

Thankfully, Caldwell was quick with the transport back to the house.

John looked around their bedroom. "Well, that went well. I think."

"As well as it could have gone," Rodney said quickly releasing the cuffs. He pulled John's off him first before taking off his own and moving to the bedside table to drop them in the drawer.

They made a few plans, more of a list of what needed to get done, then had celebratory sex and showers. While the day hadn't started off great, it was a nice kick-start to, hopefully, a better afternoon.

Rodney headed for his lab, his first priority of the day to get some things packed that he would need. The rest of it—anything that was technically illegal for him to have—he stored away in a locked room only he had the various keys to get in with.

That didn't take him as long as he thought it would, so he decided to get a jump on what was probably going to be sucky thing number two today: explaining to Madison that he was taking John away for a few weeks.

He headed for her playroom, and found her there with the nanny who immediately gave him a big smile and headed outside, telling them she was in the other room if they needed her.

Madison looked up at him, and while a lot of the hostility she had toward him had been worked through, their relationship wasn't back to one hundred percent yet. John kept telling him it would take time, and to be patient. Rodney just hoped this wasn't going to put them back to square one again.

"Hey, Madison," he said as he stepped into the room.

"Hi Uncle Mer."

"I wanted to talk to you. Something's come up."

She looked up from her doll. "What does that mean?"

Rodney wiped his sweaty hands on his pants and sat down in a chair. "It means that Uncle John and I have to go on a business trip."

"You're going away?" Her bottom lip started to tremble.

"Just for a little while."

"No!"

"Madison, it's just for a little while. We'll be back," he said, reaching out to her.

"No!" She darted out of his reach. "You can't go! You can't take Uncle John, and leave me!"

Rodney sighed, getting up to follow her. "It won't be for long and we'll be back."

To his horror, she burst into tears and ran out of the room.

"Great, just great," he muttered, pulling his cell out of his pocket. He dialed John's office line.

It took a few rings before John picked up. "Sheppard here."

"You have to talk to Madison."

There was a pause. "Um..?"

"She ran away crying when I tried to explain it to her," he said as he headed into the master bedroom and into the closet. There were suitcases around here somewhere.

"Damn."

And wasn't that the understatement of the century. "She'll only listen to you." Rodney spotted the suitcases up on the shelf. He needed a step ladder or something.

"We've taken long business trips before. Why is this any different?"

"I don't know."

"I blame her gender. All women, no matter the age, are completely crazy."

"You talk to her," Rodney said. "I have other things to do." Packing was at the top of the list. They had two days to get everything together. He hung up, cutting off John's reply.

He decided to start by pulling out everything he wanted to bring. It would be easier if he saw it all together, to make sure he didn't forget anything.

He started pulling out clothes that they might need. He stacked it on the bed until there was no more room and then started on the chairs and dressers. He didn't remember what the weather was like this time of year. Was it hot? Cold? Damp? Dry?

As he pulled it out, he realized John was hopeless at packing. He would probably bring one pair of jeans and a black tee-shirt. Rodney should pack for him, too.

He added John 's stuff to the piles, trying to sort everything based on color and weight—cold or warm weather clothes.

Once he finished with the clothes, he started in on everything else.

They needed a lot of stuff for the trip. He encountered John downstairs when he was grabbing some granola bars to pack—just in case.

"Hey. What are you doing?"

"Ah…packing," he said, a little embarrassed at the state of the bedroom. God knows what John was going to say. He moved past John, heading for their bedroom. "I thought you were doing…stuff."

One of John's eyebrows went up, but he followed along beside Rodney. "I just finished consoling Maddie. She's afraid we won't come back, like her parents. But I told her when we do get back, we'll go on a family vacation somewhere. She's already lobbying for Disney."

Great. He was bribing the kid. "You bribed her?"

"Maybe. It worked though."

"Let me guess. She turned on the waterworks and you broke like a stale cookie." Rodney turned into their bedroom.

John froze in the doorway, looking around slowly. "What the hell is all this?"

Rodney tried not to blush. "I'm packing."

"This is... everything you own. In the middle of the room. We're only going for two weeks..."

"Actually," Rodney said, feeling his face flush hot. "It's not all mine."

"It's not? What is it then?"

Rodney shrugged, looking back at John. "Some of it's yours."

There went that eyebrow again. "Oh?"

"I thought it would be easier if I packed for both of us, so I started pulling out some clothes, but then I couldn't' remember what the temperature was like at this time of year. It's been a long time since we were there and I don't remember if their seasons were close to ours or not, so I started pulling out some stuff, but then remembered it could get cool at night but at other times it was really hot and muggy—the water does that—and I didn't remember where—"

John cut him off with a kiss. It took Rodney a few heartbeats to get with the program, and then it was really nice.

John released him a few moments later, stepping back and leaving Rodney swaying forward, wanting more.

"Mmmm. Better."

Rodney licked his lips, totally sidetracked by the kiss. "Ah…what?"

John's smile was soft. "You needed a little break."

He huffed, looking around the room. "It's a…bit of a mess, isn't it?"

"A bit. But nothing we can't handle. Together."

Rodney snorted again at John's closet romantic notions, but didn't argue with him.

****

It was weird to be back at the SGC.

Rodney had known he'd have to go there to step through the gate to Atlantis, but he hadn't really thought much about it. Honestly, he'd been a little preoccupied freaking out. After everything had finally been packed and approved and set into motion, then he'd started panicking.

What if the Wraith attacked? What would happen to them then? They were just civilians. Would John insist on fighting? What if the Wraith killed him? He didn't think he could take anything like that—not now, not after getting everything he wanted.

It would be too cruel.

He'd left his pills at the house, so all he could do was talk himself down off the proverbial ledge and hope and pray John was enough to keep him sane.

As soon as they stepped through the gate, Elizabeth was rushing down to meet them, and people were all around, hugging them and welcoming them back.

Simpson and Radek and people he didn't even remember were hugging him and welcoming him back to Atlantis. And then there was the city herself, reserved but present in the back of his mind. It was more than he had ever imagined.

The crowd of people separated him from John for a bit, but when he caught glimpses of his husband, he saw John looked just as overwhelmed as he felt, which was comforting in a twisted sort of way.

He wasn't in this alone anymore.

It was... a revelation.

Elizabeth finally called off the dogs, so to speak, giving them a little room to breathe and Rodney was surprised to find how much he needed it.

She was laughing softly. "Okay, everyone. They're here for two weeks. You'll have plenty of time to talk with them," she said firmly, but kindly. "Let's give them some room and get them settled."

Without needing to even look at each other, John and Rodney drifted back close to one another. Rodney reached out and grabbed his husband's hand.

John squeezed his hand lightly. "We missed you guys, too. I didn't realize how much until... now."

"Why don't I let Chuck get you settled? We've already assigned quarters to both of you, not far from where you were when you were here. Once you're settled, we can catch up before Radek steals Rodney away to look over our power drain."

"Ah... we... only need one room." John held up their hands to show the matched wedding bands. "We're... ah.... married now. To... each other."

Rodney never remembered seeing her so surprised. Her eyes got really wide and she stuttered. "You're…" She broke off, blinking twice. "So is that why you…?" She turned to Rodney.

"Actually, no," Rodney said shaking his head. "I stand by the reasons I gave in my letter of resignation. This just…happened later."

"Okay," Elizabeth said, gesturing for two Marines to grab their luggage. Teyla and Ronon—who were still hovering—moved in to grab them instead. "Let's get you into something more suitable. We have a few suites for married couples, but I'm not sure what's open." She turned, heading up the stairs, leaving everyone to follow.

They ended up in her office, everything a little surreal. But he was here for a reason, not to sit and chat. Rodney squeezed John's hand, cutting him short before he continued with the small talk. "Can I go and see the equipment you're having problems with?"

Elizabeth nodded, smiling. "Of course. Radek is probably lurking around a corner waiting for you. We're grateful you both agreed to come back here. We're starting to get more than a little worried."

"I'll grab a headset from Chuck. Call me if you need me," Rodney said. He pressed a quick kiss to John's lips before heading out, stopping by the gate tech to grab the radio. Radek was loitering at the door to the control room.

"Come with me. You are needed back in the genetics lab." Radek gestured for him to follow.

"The genetics lab? I thought you were having issues with power."

"Yes. I forget you have not been here. We opened a small section of the lab for pure genetics research about one year ago. The device you found was brought there, and that is where the problems are coming from."

"And you just…put it in?" Rodney asked as they walked to the nearest transporter. "Are you really that stupid?"

"No, we did not install it." Radek ran a hand through his hair. "The Marines, they bring it in, and suddenly it is fusing itself to the floors and interfacing with our systems."

"Just like that."

"More or less, yes."

"Right," Rodney snorted. "Just admit you screwed up. I can't fire you anymore."

Radek huffed. "I wish it was I who screwed up, because then I could fix it. But these consoles, they will not recognize anything I do or attempt, and we cannot get them free of where they have secured themselves. You will see."

Rodney took a breath. "Yeah, yeah. Tell one of the Marines to bring my backpack. I have my tablet with me."

"I already told them to take it to the lab when they were securing the rest of your luggage." Radek led him down into a part of the labs that had been closed off when he was last here. "The only hope I have left with this drain is that it will stop for you. Your name is the one it asks for only."

"Of course. It thinks I'm a goddamned genetics researcher."

"Yes, and it will not allow us to assign the role to another, even as a co-researcher."

"I'm not staying forever, so don't get any ideas."

Radek rolled his eyes.

"Well, I'm not."

"You have made this clear. Right now, I wish to fix problem, not recruit."

"Good, then show me where the big sucker is," Rodney said, clapping his hands together.

Radek led him back to a lab, where the equipment Rodney remembered from the lab he and John had found was... fused to the ground.

"Huh," he said, walking around it.

"You see. We did not install it. It installed itself."

"It just…fused to the floor?"

"As soon as it was set down by the Marines who carried it in, yes. The integration with our systems began a few minutes later and we could not stop it, and we are completely locked out of what it is doing."

"Is it doing something—besides sucking power?"

"None of our other systems have been affected, but that does not mean it is not doing anything. Since I cannot get access to the terminal, I cannot see what it is doing."

"Fine fine," Rodney said, rolling his eyes. "Where's my tablet?"

Radek waved his hand at Rodney's backpack on the floor nearby.

"The morons probably dropped it, too," Rodney grumbled as he pulled it out, grabbing his cords, too.

It didn't take him long to hook up to the terminal, which, fortunately, immediately let him in as the recognized researcher.

He worked for a little while, tracing pathways, until he started getting warning messages from the system. Someone was poking at something and starting to make the system overload. "Radek, who else is working on this right now?"

"Should be no one." Radek rolled his eyes. "But I would not put it past some of them to try to 'help'."

"Fuck," Rodney cursed quietly, re-routing one of the requests manually. "Who the hell is SM?"

Radek muttered a few curses in Czech. "That would be Stewart Murphy. He is new Kavenaugh."

"Get him the hell away from whatever terminal he's working on and bring him here." Rodney tried to shut down his access, but he had limited views into the system from his handheld tablet.

Radek disappeared, returning about ten minutes later arguing loudly with a small man who had the sneer and attitude down pat, but apparently lacked any real intelligence to go along with it.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Rodney asked without preamble. "Are you trying to get us all killed?"

Murphy turned the sneer on him. "I don't know who you are, and frankly, I don't care. I won't allow you to muck about in our systems without supervision."

"I'm the one who saved this city from blowing up for three years before you ever came here. I'm the expert they called into fix what you can't. You need to stop whatever the hell you're doing because I've already stopped you from blowing up this entire level three times since I arrived a few hours ago! I have the ear of the president and will get you kicked out of here on your ass if you don't."

Murphy rolled his eyes. "If you were that good, you would be here not off banging an ex-military hack who was kicked out for incompetence."

Rodney saw red for a moment and was surprised when someone was pulling him back away from the less smug scientist.

Radek was talking softly. "If you kill him, I will be down another scientist the SGC will not replace. He is stupid bastard, but you would regret his death if you were the one to cause it."

"You had better keep him away from me and revoke all his privileges while I'm here or so help me god, he won't live longer than a few days."

"Yes, I will have him confined to quarters." Murphy tried to protest, but something in Rodney's glare must have been deadly, since he immediately shut up and went back to looking haughty instead.

"And I need a mainframe console to stop this idiot's work from killing us."

"Yes, your access privileges were never revoked. You can access it via the terminal over there." Radek pointed across the room.

Rodney grumbled as he pulled himself from Radek's grasp, stomping across the room. "You're supposed to keep your scientists under control," he muttered. "I shouldn't have to deal with them."

Radek followed him, keeping himself between Rodney and Murphy. "I had told him to stay out of the systems. More than once. He does not seem to understand when I tell him he does more harm than good."

Radek sighed. Rodney glanced over and realized his old friend had aged a decade since he had last seen him.

"He hasn't killed you yet, but that might be sooner rather than later if you don't do something about it," he said, turning back to the console. He worked quickly, trying to shut down Murphy's requests and simulations and stupid tests.

It took him an hour of time he should have been working on what he was actually here for, but he finally managed to not only shut down everything Murphy had running, but restrict the man's access to the most basic of systems.

Rodney shoved himself away from the terminal, his back cracking as he moved. He grimaced in pain. He was getting too old for this. "I need coffee, a PowerBar, and peace and quiet."

Several scientists jumped - all people who had been here when he had been running the department—and his requests appeared several minutes later before the lab was mostly vacated, except for the few who needed to be there. And Murphy, who didn't seem to understand that he was very close to becoming the victim of a very deadly accident.

Rodney tried to ignore him as he got back to work. The device had fused itself to more than just the floor. Rodney could trace hundreds of connections to the Atlantis mainframe. It was going to take him years to track down and disconnect this device.

He sighed to himself. He had a feeling Radek didn't know that someone had been messing with it, and had made the problem worse. Rodney's bet was on Murphy. For now, he just tried to find a way to tell it to stop drawing on the ZPM.

So far all his attempts to do that were about as effective as telling a person to stop eating. It was okay for a little while, but after a few hours they were picking at the snacks on the table.

He decided to change tactics for the moment. If he could get a program up and running to cycle power back to the ZPM as the device drew it out, he could at least slow down the drain and buy them more time to fix the problem.

At some point later, someone cleared their throat and he looked up to find Miko squinting down at him. Radek was hovering behind her. "What? What do you want?"

Her eyes started to water. "You are back!" She flung her arms around him.

"Yes, yes," I'm back," he said, extracting himself from her arms. "I'm back because you are all too stupid to actually do something right."

"It is so good to see you!" She was sobbing now.

"Oh for god's sake, would you stop with the waterworks?" He looked behind her to Radek. "And you. You still haven't explained who made the brilliant decision to plug this in without actually doing any research into what it did! Have you gotten stupider since I've been gone? Did you think you could just slack off because I wasn't in charge anymore?"

He heard a soft chuckle. "Having fun?"

John. Rodney whirled around, sending his glare toward his husband. "No. What makes you think dealing with idiots is fun? I swear my blood pressure must have risen a hundred points since I walked in the door this afternoon to discover Murphy here is one step away from taking out this entire level. And let's not even begin to mention the mess that this genetics lab is."

There was a small smile playing across John's lips. "Why don't we go have some dinner, then you can come back and yell at them some more."

"Yeah, fine. I can't take these idiots any more today." He was more than ready to let his husband relax him.

John laced their hands together as they headed for the mess hall. "How bad is it, really? Are you going to be able to fix it in two weeks?"

"I hope so. The stupid equipment they brought here is welded in place and it's still giving me a hard time assigning a new researcher. Right now it only recognizes me and it's not even letting me change its protocols. I'm going to have to rewrite the coding. Something's screwed up somewhere. But at least I got somewhere. Zelenka couldn't even get the welcome prompt."

"Maybe because the original terminal recognized you, and that was carried over when it was moved? Lorne mentioned it was drawing a steady drain of power. Is there any way to disconnect it from the main grid until you figure out how to make it work the way they want it to?"

"No. The machinery literally welded itself in place. It looks like it fused to the metal of the floor or console they put it on." Rodney sighed as they stepped into the transporter. He punched the area for the mess on the screen. "I think they screwed up the download, honestly. There were bits and pieces of the programming left in that lab. Maybe it was a safety thing or maybe the scientists that pulled it out were as stupid as I thought they were."

"Great." John made a face. "Well, if anyone can sort it all out, it will be you. Now I know why they were so desperate to get you here."

"Yeah. The damn thing only wanted me. If there was a way around it, they would have used it." Rodney sighed as they stepped out of the transporter and right into the mess—which was a mess of people and decorations and food.

Carson stepped up, ushering them forward. "Don't just stand there gawking. The cooks have been busy all day preparing for tonight. And it's not every day that we have an excuse for a wee bit of a party, now is it?"

Party? For them? Rodney was more than surprised. Shocked. Dumbfounded. None of those really covered what was happening and the huge "Welcome Back" banner to him and John.

This was unreal.

He exchanged a long look with John, who was just as stunned as Rodney if his expression was anything to go by. John looked back at Carson. "Party..."

Apparently, they had been missed—a whole lot more than they'd anticipated. The science staff eventually tugged him away from John and they started talking about different theories and things that had happened. He was given food and drink and told to keep talking. It was nice being the star of the show.

He wasn't aware of how long he debated and talked and caught up until suddenly John was at his elbow again. "Hey, guys. Sorry to break up the party, but I'm stealing him for the night to get some sleep."

Rodney blinked at John as the scientists quickly dispersed. He tried not to show his own relief at having John near. They headed back to their temporary quarters, grateful John knew where they were going since he had no idea where they'd been bunked.

As they made it into the quieter halls, John clasped their hands together and offered a smile. "Glad to be back?"

"Is that a trick question?"

"No. Just wondering what you were thinking." He hesitated. "They'd take you back, full time, if you really wanted it."

"I…" Rodney sighed, going quiet for a few moments as he put together his thoughts. He'd dreamt of Atlantis of coming back to a great big homecoming ever since he left. Sometimes, in the back of his mind, he was telling himself everything else was temporary until they went back to the City. At some point, though, he'd stopped thinking that way. When that transition happened…he wasn't quite sure.

"It's weird. I've dreamed of this, of coming back here ever since I left. I dreamed that they'd welcome us back with open arms and a party…" He sighed. "It was nice, but…"

"Weird." John summed it up with his usual flare for picking random words.

Rodney glanced at him with a smirk. "Yeah. And a little awkward."

"You'd fit right back in though. By the end of the two weeks we're here.... if you want to stay..."

Rodney blinked twice, not sure he'd heard John right. Was he…offering for him to stay behind? Was he trying to get out of this relationship with him? "John," he said, pausing mid-step and turning to the other man as panic flared in his belly. "Are you looking to get rid of me? Are you trying to tell me something?"

"No!" Horror crossed John's face. He stepped in and kissed Rodney hard. "No. I don't... I don't want to lose you, ever. I just... I don't want to hold you back. I know you miss your work here, and I know how much you feel... not as useful at the estate. I don't want you to stay because you feel like you have to. And even if you did stay here more... we'd still be married, and you'd still come visit me as often as you could on Earth."

Rodney narrowed his eyes, his gaze tracking up to John's hairline. "Did you get hit on the head when I wasn't looking?"

They started walking again, and John shook his head. "No. I just...being here. It made me realize how much you gave up, for me. I just... don't want you to regret it, I guess."

"Then stop thinking."

With a small smile, John laced their hands together again. "If I did that, you'd get bored with me. Face it, you have a thing for smart guys."

Rodney sighed as John tugged him into a room—a large suite—locking the door behind them. "Look. We've had this conversation before. I go where you go. It's as simple as that."

"I know. I just... I was trying to be the martyr here and do the whole, give up what you love to let it fly thing."

"Well, stop it."

"Okay. I'll try. And check out this suite. This is a part of the city we hadn't opened yet, when we were here."

The suite was…well, for lack of a better descriptor, sweet. And if John wanted to christen it that night, Rodney was not going to complain.

****

Rodney was convinced the scientist had gotten even more stupid since he'd been gone, although it shouldn't have been as much as a surprise to him as it was. He wasn't there to guide them, so it was bound to happen. He just hoped Radek would have been able to pick up the slack—or grow a backbone.

And then, on top of the idiots in the science department—and the stupid energy sucking console—there was John.

There wasn't anything wrong with John, but he was continuing to think the worst of him, that he would leave him for the lure of Atlantis. Granted, a few years ago that might have been true, but he'd changed. Or at least Rodney thought he had.

But then there was the whole Madison thing. Even after all the time Rodney had been spending with her, she still loved John the most. No matter how he tried to brush it off, it hurt. If his own flesh and blood relative didn't like him, how could he expect others to?

As he worked through solutions to try and get the genetics console to stop drawing from Atlantis' power, the problem with John and Madison kept popping back up. He knew it was something he was going to have to deal with or it was going to be too much of a distraction.

And the fact that John kept thinking about her and dotting on her wasn't helping either.

It wasn't like John was doing it on purpose. Rodney knew that. He sighed, and forced his mind back to what he was fixing. The script idea had completely tanked, so now they were on to the next potential solution.

Plan B. Cut the damn thing away from the floor.

Unfortunately, it was so far resisting the efforts. It was like it had a mind of its own, and it didn't want to be moved. Period.

It was after that annoying failure that John's voice was suddenly in his ear, making him jump. He had forgotten he was wearing a radio again. "Rodney, you out there?"

He answered and arranged to meet John for lunch in the mess. As he was clicking off, another scientist—god only knew what his name was—grabbed his arm to talk about some possible code solutions.

"Doctor McKay! I wanted to run a new equation past you to see if it might be useful in uncoupling the genetics terminal from our primary power source."

"Talk to me as I walk," he said, scowling at the name thing. They were supposed to be smart, but none of them could seem to get it right.

As they headed to the mess, the man gave Rodney a full run-down. While it wasn't in any way useful for the current project, he had to admit, there was potential in the idea.

Rodney spotted John as soon as they walked in, but needed to finish up with the scientist. It was easier to do that now then to try to find him later.

"So, do you think it will work?"

"You're not entirely stupid if that's what you're asking," Rodney said. "Keep working with it, but don't do anything before you run it by me or Radek."

"Thank you!" The kid gave him a worshipful glance before taking off.

Rodney rolled his eyes as he sought out John again, heading to where he'd grabbed food for the two of them. He slid into the chair across from him a moment later, his stomach growling. "That looks amazing. And have they done something to the mess? It looks different."

"I was noticing that too. It's a lot nicer than when we were here." John smiled. "Food tastes better, too."

They chatted easily through lunch until John brought up Madison. It was almost Pavlovian how he got all tense and irritated about it.

"I wonder how Maddie's doing. I hate being gone from her for so long. She was terrified we would leave and never come back."

Rodney tried to keep his tone light, but he knew it was sharp and short. "I know, but we're going to leave her every now and then. It's not like we'll always be there either."

"I know." John sighed. "She's just been through so much. I worry about her."

Rodney pushed the food around on his plate, the muscles in his jaw tight. "Sometimes you worry too much."

"Part of my charm."

"And why she always goes to you when she wants something because she knows you'll cave," Rodney said a little snidely, looking up. He really didn't want to talk about this now.

John gave him a wry look. "She has me wrapped around her little finger."

Wasn't that the truth, he thought as he snorted. "Yes, she does."

"But that's why I have you, to pull me up short before I ruin her completely."

"But now we know why she likes you better, too."

"Because I cave horribly and spoil her rotten at the first sign of tears?"

"You spoil that brat rotten. She doesn't deserve half the things you give her. I didn't have them and I turned out just fine." He dropped his fork down on his plate to take a sip of his coffee.

"I know." John at least looked guilty. That was a start, that he knew he was doing something wrong. "I know she's just crying to get her way, but then I start thinking maybe that will make her feel better and make her not miss them... And I cave."

"Time and time again," he said, his mind slipping sideways into more…pleasurable ways John caved in—for him. Those he didn't mind at all.

John gave him a small smile. "Maybe later you'll have to punish me for being such a push-over."

Rodney narrowed his eyes. "How? By no sex?"

"Hmm, you might need to spank me."

"I'm thinking no sex would work," Rodney said after a moment of thought. It might help to…emphasize his point.

"Nonono, that's not a good punishment at all."

"Oh, I think abstinence is a very good punishment," he said with a tight smile. "It won't take long before you're coming to me begging for it and apologizing for what you did."

Arousal darkened John's eyes and Rodney caught the little shiver of anticipation. "You're evil."

Great. John was turned on by it. Not what he had in mind. "I just know you can't go long without." He shoveled the last bite of food into his mouth.

"You want me on my knees now?"

Rodney raised an eyebrow. No. That's not what he had in mind. "Somehow I don't think so."

"No? Want me to go back to the room and get on my knees for you there?"

No. Not what he wanted, either. To be honest, he didn't know what he wanted, but it seemed like John was in the mood to play. Great. He was bored and horny. "If I let you do it now, it's certainly not punishment now is it?"

His husband swallowed hard, looking Rodney up and down. "So how long do I have to wait before I can beg?"

Rodney pursed his lips. "I haven't decided yet."

"When will you know?"

"You'll know."

"I don't want to wait. I want to make amends. I'm very sorry."

Rodney held back his smirk and snort. Yeah, right. He didn't even know what to be sorry about. "But we both know you'll just go back home and do it again."

John shook his head. "No, I'll behave. I've learned my lesson."

Rodney looked at him, narrowing his eyes. "Doubtful, but we're not going to finish this conversation now. I think we're meeting Carson and Cadman for a movie."

"Bastard." John shifted around in his seat a bit.

Rodney glared at him. "Call me names and it'll last longer."

"You're going to kill me."

"It's your own fault, you know." Rodney said dryly. He might as well work it while he could. "Get me some coffee, would you?"

"Sure, but you know as soon as I stand up anyone watching will know exactly what's on my mind, right?"

"Then you better talk yourself down quickly, shouldn't you?" This time Rodney smirked.

"Evil."

Rodney climbed to his feet. He needed a few minutes before he met up with everyone else to get his head on right. He didn't want to hurt John and he needed to push down some of his anger and jealousy. "I'll meet you in the movie room. Don't forget to bring dessert, too." He dumped the trays and left John sitting at the table.

He walked for a bit, taking his time on the way to the movie room, letting his mind wander.

He didn't want to do anything to John to hurt him, so he needed to sort everything out. Compartmentalize.

It wasn't fair to John that he was jealous of a six-year-old. So when John finally arrived with coffee, Rodney tried his best to get in the mood. He loved playing with John, so it wasn't exactly a hardship, but when he felt so out-of-sorts it just made it difficult.

Throughout the movie, he let his focus center more on John. There was no doubt his husband was turned on.

And he wanted to make it good for him. John loved playing like this, liked the different roles they took. And today a little "punishment" was right up with what Rodney had in mind—but he had to make sure to temper it.

He headed back to their room a little before John. It would give him the time he needed to get himself in the right frame of mind.

On the way, he made a quick stop in one of the supply closets, grabbing rope and some zip ties. If he was comfortable with it, he'd up the ante, so to speak. Back at the suite, he stripped and set everything up, listening for John to enter the room.

He heard the door open. "Rodney?"

Rodney padded out on bare feet, approaching John slowly. "You okay with this?" he asked quietly, hand skimming John's arm.

"Yeah. Was hot, when you were giving me orders before. I want to... Yeah."

"Good," Rodney nodded, taking a breath to try and get himself more into the whole…scene. "So…strip."

John didn't waste any time, tossing his clothes off.

Rodney watched him, loving the play of the light on John's skin and how his muscles moved. He was so beautiful. But even his beauty couldn't dim the hurt Rodney felt when Madison ran to him, hugged him, loved him—and John just lapped it all up. Rodney was always going to be the bad Uncle, the one Madison tolerated. He wasn't pretty enough for her, he knew. John was her hero, would always be her hero.

He shook himself out of his thoughts when John was finally standing before him, naked and very aroused. John didn't deserve his anger, though, only his love. John was…John and there was nothing Rodney could do to change it—nor would he want to.

He had to get his head on right. Rodney licked his lips as he moved into the bedroom, heading for the dresser. He picked up a set of zip cuffs. "I want to…try something."

John just nodded, putting himself completely in Rodney's hands.

God, the trust John showed him… That hurt a little more especially now, knowing what he'd been thinking. He willed his hands not to shake as put the cuffs on John's hands, tightening them down, checking to make sure they weren't pinching skin. Then he led him to the bed, pressing him down into it. He grabbed a single zip tie from the bedside table and secured John's hands to the headboard.

God. He loved John so much. He kissed his wrists before shifting back, looking down at John. "You okay?"

John's hips shifted up toward Rodney. "Want you. Want to taste you."

"We're going to do things a little…differently tonight," Rodney said with a smile, pressing a kiss to John's forehead before moving down toward the foot of the bed. He took a deep breath. Time for part two. And Rodney knew he had to be on his game to do this. "I know we haven't done a lot with this, but…would you be okay if I tied your feet for a little bit? I want to…try something."

John moaned softly and nodded.

Rodney pulled out the rope he'd grabbed earlier and carefully tied John's legs together, checking to make sure he wasn't compromising his circulation. That would not be sexy—at all. Another loop of rope secured John's ankles to the bed frame.

Looking up John's body, tied like this, it was easy to love him, to want him. He was beautiful and so trusting and Rodney's body quickly got with the program—his anger and hurt and jealously totally sidelined by his husband laid out for him.

John tugged on the ties, still moaning softly. Please, Rodney...."  
"Please what, John? You're being punished and I think we've discussed what your punishment is at dinner," he said, his hand grasping his own cock and pulling a few times. Oh yeah, he could get into this.

"Please... let me taste you. Want you in my mouth..."

Rodney shifted again, reaching for the cock ring he'd brought with him from home. He easily secured it around John's shaft, shushing him as he whined with need. "Just because you're being punished with abstinence doesn't mean I have to go without."

John's mouth fell open, and Rodney knew what he was asking for.

Rodney shook his head as he started stroking himself. "No, John. You don't even get that." He listened to John beg as he straddled him and then proceeded to pleasure himself, John struggling beneath him, until he finally gave it up, spilling across John's cock and stomach, and chest. Marking him. John was his, not hers.

He collapsed next to John, catching his breath.

Next to him, John was trembling.

He let himself linger in his post-coital pleasure before finally pushing himself up so he could look down on John. "That was good, wasn't it?"

"Please...." John sobbed softly.

"What did you want?" Rodney asked. He reached out, spreading his come across John's body.

"Please... Rodney...."

John was like a cat, trying to be stroked and touched. "You want to come, don't you?" This was so primitive, claiming a person this way, but Rodney liked it. John was his.

John nodded with a soft sob. "Please... Sorry.... Need..."

Rodney continued spreading the semen, covering John in a thin layer. "You are so hot like this."

John nodded again, silently begging.

"No." It felt good to tell John no, to force him to do what he wanted.

A few tears leaked out of the corners of John's eyes.

Part of Rodney felt triumph. It served him right for what he'd done, but the other part was disgusted. He pushed them both away, trying to concentrate on pleasuring his husband. "You're doing really well, John. I'm proud of you. You can take this. I know you can."

John arched up into his hand. "...be good..."

"You always are," Rodney said, the words a little strangled. And that was the truth. John was so good to him and to Madison. He didn't deserve Rodney's anger or jealousy. He pressed a kiss to John's forehead and started to push John to the edge. John deserved to come. He didn't deserve to have this dragged out any longer—especially not when his brain kept fighting him.

It didn't take much John came with a strangled scream, immediately passing out from the force of his orgasm.

Rodney quickly cut off the zip ties and released John's feet, spooning up behind John to hold him. He felt…dirty. He hated himself just a little more when John woke up, giving him a happy little moan. Maybe it was better he didn't know. "You okay?" Rodney asked quietly.

"Uh huh." John turned in his arms, nuzzling into his neck. "You?"

"Yeah," he said quietly.

John blinked a few times, and Rodney could see him starting to swim back up. "Rodney? What's wrong?"

"Nothing, John," Rodney said, not wanting to meet John's eyes. So much for keeping it to himself. "You were really hot, but I'm tired. Can we…?"

John sat up, reaching out to touch Rodney's face. "No, what's wrong? I can't help if you won't talk to me."

"John, please," Rodney said, tugging John back down. "I just want to sleep right now."

After a few heartbeats, his husband sighed and laid back down in Rodney's arms. . "Love you."

"Love you, too, even though you reek." Rodney pressed a smile into John's neck.

John fell asleep quietly, but Rodney's thoughts kept spinning. He slept fitfully all night and woke up early. Climbing out of the warmth of their bed, Rodney pulled on clothes and headed into the sitting room, starting to work. Maybe that would help to get his head back on straight. Sex certainly hadn't helped.

Yawning, he swung out of bed, wrinkling his nose when he caught a whiff of himself. He really did reek. "Rodney?"

"In here," he said, his voice coming from the small sitting room. John wandered out, finding the scientist dressed in a t-shirt and boxers. He had his laptop in his lap and he was scrolling through a few screens.

After a very nice morning shower, Rodney headed to the labs and forced himself to concentrate on the work at hand. He was here to do a job, not to moon about John—or be jealous of his niece for receiving John's love.

He managed to push everything to the side as soon as he walked into the lab—the stupid idiotic scientists were at it again. Why couldn't Radek seem to keep them away from the dangerous equipment? Although, if they killed themselves then no one would have to deal with them again. There was one downside: they'd take out a section of Atlantis at the same time.

He'd need to find another way to…get rid of them.

He met Carson and John for dinner and was rewarded with a special present: a video recording of John giving Kavenaugh the ride of his life in the back of the jumper. That was going to be something he would watch over and over again when he was feeling bad.

The group ended up closing down the mess hall, and by the time they realized how late it was, none of them was awake enough to attempt another movie.

He headed back to the suite with John, feeling content and full—of friendship and food.

When they got back to the room, John turned to him. "Hey, sit on the couch for a minute for me."

Rodney raised his eyebrow at John, his stomach immediately starting to churn. "What? Why?"

"I have something for you."

"O…kay." Rodney sat hesitantly, perched on the edge of the couch.

John disappeared into the bedroom, returning a few minutes later to lay out a set of jewelry on the table in front of Rodney.

It was…amazing and exotic and simply sparkled. Maybe this was for Andrea. "Oh wow. Those are beautiful."

"They're all for Maddie. This first set, is for you to give her when we get back. The others, we can decide together when to give her, as she gets older or hits major milestones."

Oh. For Madison. Of course. He should have known. No wonder Madison loved him. He always thought of the right things to do and say to make her love him. "For me to give her," he finally said, forcing the words out of his tense throat.

John sighed softly. "I know I've botched things a bit, but it's not irreparable, I don't think. I promise, I will try to back off on spoiling her as much, and giving in. And I thought... maybe coming from you, this would be a good start to re-building your relationship with her."

Right. The best way to build a relationship with a kid is to buy them stuff all the time to make them like you. "By bribing her."

John shook his head. "No. They're not a bribe. Which is why I'm giving them to you, to decide when and where you think she should get them." He sighed. "I never meant to undermine you, at all. I didn't even realize I was doing it. I'm sorry."

Well, you did, he wanted to say, wanted to yell. You underminded me and loved her more than I could love her and that's why she loves you more. But it was petty and he was trying not to do that to John.

Rodney closed his eyes for a long moment, trying to pull his thoughts together. He didn't want to say the wrong thing, didn't want to lash out like his mind was telling him to. "It's…I didn't think it mattered to me…the fact that she likes you better, but it does. I know I'm not the best parent or uncle, but sometimes I hate that you are."

John's arms were suddenly around him, holding him close. "I know. And I don't think you're a bad parent, at all. And I'm not a great one. We've just... not been working together on her as closely as maybe we should be. I want to try, if you do. I want us to be a real family."

It wasn't that easy, Rodney thought from the safety of John's arms. "It's just…complicated."

"Of course it is. We're all human, and we all make mistakes. And we can't ignore the fact that both you and her have had some pretty big shared trauma. But none of that means we should give up. I know she loves you, Rodney. You guys took a wrong turn at some point, but you're not so far off the road that you can't get back again, if you're willing to work on it."

"I never wanted kids," Rodney said quietly. He had to be honest with John. It wasn't John, it really was him—he was the one with the problem. "I'm not good with them. I don't have the patience for them. I always pictured my life with someone, sharing everything. Like what we have. But now, she has no one. I'm her closest living relative and I don't want her to end up like me—bitter and arrogant and bad with people. I don't know how to be a good parent and I envy the ease you have with her."

"So let's work on it together when we get home. It will be hard at first, I know, but…we can start with things like riding. We all enjoy it, but we've been doing it at different times. Let's set aside an hour or so a day to ride together as a family. But the more time we all spend together, and the more she sees that we support one another, and we're not enemies, of each other or her, the better things will get."

Rodney sighed quietly. "Maybe." It couldn't be that easy. It couldn't.

John shook his head. "If we do it, if you want it, it can't be a maybe thing. You'll have to be willing to commit to being a parent, full-time. It might not be what we had planned, but if we want her to grow up to be everything we know she can be, we'll have to commit."

He sighed again. John was…too good to him. He let his thoughts wander, thinking about John and Madison and how he didn't want to lose either of them. But he also needed to admit something to John—it wasn't fair of him not to especially since they were partners in this. "Is it petty of me to be jealous of her sometimes?"

John's arms tightened around him. "No. You're human, Rodney. No one expects you to be perfect, least of all me. We all get jealous, we all get irritated, and we all have bad days. It's not petty. The trick is to take a deep breath and move on, and not let it become all-consuming."

Rodney huffed, half in amusement. John was so…glass is half full these days.

John hugged him again, before letting go to reach behind the couch. He pulled something out and handed it over. "I got you a present at the market today, too."

Rodney raised an eyebrow. "What did you pay with?"

"Coffee and chocolate, although they didn't take much of it."

"We only have so much of that stuff, you know."

"I think, total, I used a bag and a half. My pack is still full."

"So, what else did you get?"

John hesitated, then rose to head back into the bedroom. When he came back, he handed over his pack. "I, ah, got these. For us to use."

Rodney gave John a weird look before opening John's pack. There were…leather cuffs inside. Holy crap. "You…" He glanced up, feeling his cheeks warm. "So you liked…"

John blushed. "I liked it, and I know you like it, too. I saw these and thought, you know, when we want to do that, they'd be easier and more comfortable than the zip-ties..."

"I was so worried you were going to hurt yourself the way you were tugging on them last night."

"Yeah. I have some raw spots. Nothing bad but, when I saw these, and how well made they are, I figured they would make it...easier. For when we want to do that."

God. John was just… Rodney smiled up at him. "You're too good to me sometimes."

"Well, I love you. I just... I like seeing you happy. Smiling."

"You make me happy." It was the simple, honest truth.

"You make me happy, too." John leaned in and gave him a soft kiss.

Rodney returned it eagerly, wanting John to know just how much he loved him—even when Rodney knew he was being an idiot to John.

Instead of rushing to get naked and have sex. they just made out on the couch for a while. It was... nice.

The whole night—even up to the cuddling they did as they climbed into bed—was just…perfect. It was like John knew he needed the reassurance and the love—more than the sex.

"Love you," John whispered as the lights dimmed and they both drifted off to sleep.

****

The next morning he walked into the genetics labs where they'd been working and announced, "I give up!"

Radek gave him an alarmed look. "You cannot give up! The city, she will sink if we do not fix problem!"

"We can't rewrite the code. It's been changing it on us every night. We can't move it. Nothing we're doing right now will make any bit of difference."

"But we cannot simply give up."

"This is why I'm a genius and you're not," Rodney said, dropping his tablet on the worktable. "We're going at it all wrong."

Radek let out a breath. "You wish to approach it another way?"

Rodney bounced on his toes. "What's the one thing it needs right now?"

Radek tapped at his teeth. "The most pressing need is the power it is draining from the ZPM."

"So what if we gave it the power it needs?"

"You mean one of the generators? We had tried that originally, but given the complexity of the ties it has made to the main grid and the fact that it would require more power than the generators could really supply, it was ruled out."

"Not exactly. You already know they don't have enough power the way they're currently configured. But what if we…re-engineered them?"

Radek blinked a few times. "What do you have in mind? How would we configure them to create more power than their current capacity load? The naquadah becomes unstable if pushed much further than the current levels."

"You need to incorporate Ancient crystals. They can handle the power load easily."

Pursing his lips, Radek nodded slowly. "I can see that, but the problem still becomes how we create the additional power to begin with. If we offset the load into the crystals, we can avoid explosion, but we still have no way to generate the extra energy."

"The crystals will help to create it. Look at this," Rodney said, shoving his tablet toward Radek. "I did something similar using geothermal energy. But here, instead of geothermal, we need to use the energy from the naquadah generator."

Radek quickly read through the notes. "This is quite clever, the way you are using the crystals to multiply the energy and store it until it is needed."

"The crystals can handle it easily. They were built that way," Rodney said with a smile. "This is why I'm still the smartest man in two galaxies."

Radek made a face. "Perhaps, but we must test it before we make the attempt to hook it to the genetics terminal. You have tested the power load with, as you said, geothermal energy. We will want to ensure the crystals can handle the increased power the naquadah will push through them."

"Yes yes yes. I already worked on some of the power equations. Everything looks good."

"Then let us set up working test, and then move to how we can get terminal to accept this power source."

"Yes," Rodney said with a smirk, "let's do that. I'm glad you thought of it."

Radek scowled at him, but led the way to where the spare generators were stored so they could set up a working test model.

Over the next two days, they worked tirelessly, getting everything set up and built. They had to scavenge for some crystals, but in the end, they found everything they needed.

Finally, they were both satisfied that the prototype hybrid generator was stable. Now came the hard part.

Turning it on.

On the day of the big move, he and Radek started by pre-wiring as much of the terminal as they could to the generator. If, once they cut the lines to the main grid, they could get it to form the final connections where they wanted it to instead of back to the ZPM, they'd be in good shape.

After painstakingly checking every single connection, Rodney finally gave it the all-clear. It was time to flip the switch, transferring power from the ZPM to the new generator. It would require a brief blackout, but no one would probably notice.

Radek hit the switch and every light in Atlantis flickered. From the scowl he was sporting, Radek was getting calls from all over the city. Rodney had restricted his own radio to only a few people.

He smirked. Until it beeped and John's voice was in his ear. "Ah, Rodney? What was that?"

"Ah…whoops?" he said, blushing a little.

"Should we be worried?"

"No," he said, already checking the connections. Nothing was smoking or burning. Both good signs. "I think we're good."

"All right. You need me for anything? I'm in the upper labs turning stuff off and on."

"Ah…give me a few minutes."

"All right. Just holler if you want me."

"Ah…sure." Rodney clicked off as he bent down to check a few more connections.

It looked like the generator was now supplying power to the entire lab, which was an unexpected bonus. He and Radek spent several hours going over how they were going to make the final switch before they were ready to try severing the terminals access to the main grid.

"Okay. Are you ready?" Rodney asked.

"As will I ever be. I am standing by to cut power to this section of the city as you sever the terminal's connections to encourage it to go to generator. I will flip switch when you say go."

"Well, then, go already."

Radek took a deep breath, then flipped the switch.

They were plunged into darkness—which didn't let up. "Uh oh."

Radek was frantically tapping on his laptop. "It seems terminal tied together the entire grid. We must isolate it before it begins to spread!"

Rodney dove for his tablet—he could see the lighted screen—and plugged it into the stupid console. "Working on it."

His radio beeped. "Ah, Rodney?"

"Not now!" he said, turning it off. "Radek, I need you to go and work on the conduits themselves."

 

"I am on it. The connections do not appear to have been damaged. The power was merely tied together."

Rodney unhooked his tablet and moved to the main terminal in the room. He'd get a better fix on things there. "There's a few lines we need to change."

"You think?" Rodney had forgotten how sarcastic Radek could be when he was stressed.

"I need you to change line A4 to A6."

"The A6 is dark. It will not work."

"It'll work when you plug A4 into it."

Muttering unflattering things in Czech, Radek moved the line.

"Now B26 to A4."

They fell into a pattern for several minutes, trying different connection schemes.

Rodney vaguely heard John walk in as he was working with Radek, squinting across the room to make sure Radek was moving the right lines. Thankfully Radek had a small flashlight shining into the area. "Yes. There. That line. Switch it with the one next to it."

Radek moved the line.

"Okay good good," Rodney poked at the screen. "Now you need to swap lines D4 and 5 and change the polarity of the crystal in slot A42."

"I can do one or other, but they are in two different places. I am not superman!"

"I've got this one." John said as he moved to the second console.

"Just don't think anything at it," Rodney said sharply.

"I'm not. Just connecting the wires you tell me to. I'm just an extra set of hands."

"You better not," Rodney grumbled before snapping off orders. One after another after another. Radek and John followed everything he said precisely and then, an hour later, the lights flickered on and the consoles settled into a contented hum.

"Good, good," Rodney muttered, tapping at the screen in front of him. "Radek, switch crystal one and twenty-three."

"Done."

"Good, yes…this looks good." Rodney nodded to himself. Now, for the next step and he needed one Scot. He tapped his radio. "Carson, report to the lab."

All right. I'll be down there in a bit."

Rodney rolled his eyes. "No, I don't mean later. I mean now. I expect you in five minutes." He tapped his radio off and glanced at John. "Okay, we can start closing up the panels."

John glanced over as he closed up the terminal he had been working on. "Crisis averted?"

"I think so," Rodney said with a nod as he scrolled through a few screens to get to the one he needed.. "I'll know for sure once Carson stops playing with his sheep and gets down here."

"Big breakthrough?"

Rodney pointed across the room. "I set up a small generator like the one I have at the house to run this lab. We just finished re-routing the power to the generator and away from the main power source, so Atlantis is no longer getting drained of power. I was able to get into the interface the other day and I think I set Carson up as the main researcher. I want to test it when he gets here now that they system has a stable power source."

John blinked. "Wow. That's fantastic!" He smiled. "You're a genius."

"I know." Rodney smirked. He was the smartest man in two galaxies after all.

John stepped closer and gave him a soft kiss.

"If this is set up correctly, which it is since I did it, then Carson will have full access to this lab." Rodney bounced on his toes.

"Wow. So you'll have done the main thing you came to do then?"

"More or less," Rodney said, wiggling his hand. "I can't find the power drain, but we can just replace the generator now if we need to."

"It at least gives the city some breathing room, instead of racing against the clock."

"Yeah. And I was only able to do it because it recognized me as one of the researchers. I had to change some of the internal parameters and settings," he said as Carson strolled in. "It's about time you got here. I don't have all day to wait for you, you know."

Carson glared at him. "I was in the middle of something. The city doesna revolve around you, you know."

"Of course it does," Rodney said. "I'm here for two weeks, and two weeks only. And you're the one who insisted I come here, so your life for these two weeks does revolve around me. But enough about that. I need you to log into the system."

Carson huffed but walked over. "What do you need me to do?"

"Do you have wax in your ears? I said I needed you to log into the system."

"Aye, and I've no idea how to go about doing that. You havena let me mess with it at all, remember?"

"It's pretty intuitive. Just…log in."

Carson made a face at him before closing his eyes and putting a hand on the terminal.

Rodney glanced over Carson's shoulder, bouncing on his toes. Everything looked…perfect. He was a genius. "Right, there you go, you're in. Now, this isn't connected with the Atlantis mainframe—and don't try to ask Radek to do it either. It's a completely closed system because its power requirements are quite different than what was in this lab before. We've had to re-route everything."

"What kind of data do I have access to on it, then?"

"If the SGC did the data transfer directly—of which I have my doubts, but I won't go into now—you should have access to all of the data that's been collected since the lab was first created, so several hundred years of genetics experiments and trials. Oh, and that includes the entire Sheppard line. Maybe you can figure out what gene makes his hair do what it does."

Carson's eyes widened. "John's family was an Ancient experiment? That actually... makes a lot of sense, given how strong his gene is. I wonder if I can find traces of all of us with stronger versions of it here..."

"Yeah, it seems like the Ancient running this program had a hard-on for John's family. Seems they might have all been as good-looking as he is." Rodney shrugged. "But the system will ask for updates of his blood from time-to-time, so expect that."

John jumped in before Carson could respond. "What do you mean, it will want samples of my blood. You never mentioned that."

"Your family is an ongoing experiment," Rodney said in as patient a tone as he could manage. "It'll want to take a blood sample now and then to keep tabs on you. It's part of the research protocol—and it explains why there's a really high rate of alien abduction cases in that area of the country. It wouldn't surprise me if an Ancient was still using the facility."

John crossed his arms over his chest, looking belligerent. "I am not an experiment."

"Actually," Rodney said, his mouth twitching into a smile, "you are. I'd be curious to see what Carson can find out about your family line and also how your gene has changed now that you have the bug DNA, too. Huh. It would be interesting to see how that would be translated into your offspring, too."

John's eyes went wide. "Offspring. Wait a minute, what? I don't have any kids, and unless one of us suddenly and spontaneously changes gender, I won't have any."

"You can always go the surrogate route. You have good genes. It would be a shame to waste them. I stored a bunch of mine when I was in college in one of those high-end sperm banks." Rodney shrugged absently. It had been good money back then. He vaguely wondered if it still was.

"No." John glared at him. "We're not having this conversation. I'll let Carson draw all the blood he'll need for this stupid thing to have it on file, but that's as far as I'm willing to go with it."

"We'll see."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"I mean that it's a very important decision that you just can't decide on the spur of the moment."

Carson cut in before they could continue the discussion. "Rodney, you said this thing will require John's blood from time to time. What happens when we run out of the supply? Will it accept that the experiment is over?"

"No, not really. It will expect another subject to be brought in, usually the subject's offspring," Rodney said, turning his focus to Carson. "I think that's why the lab was so happy to see John. It had been years since they'd gotten a sample."

"And what happens if it doesna get that sample?"

"Just like any other program, you'll get increasingly annoying messages until you can't work anymore unless you update the program. I swear Bill Gates has nothing on this Ancient in terms of annoyance techniques."

Carson made a face. "All right then. John, we'll need to have you donate as much as it's safe to give while you're here. And then we'll probably have to set up times to have you donate a few pints a few times a year to send along."

"Actually, it requires a fresh sample every time," Rodney said with a shrug. "I couldn't change it in the research protocols either. I did try, but it will give us an excuse to come out here once a year."

"What?!" John sounded a little hysterical.. "What do you mean it needs a fresh sample? You mean I have to come be a... a research subject once a year and let it analyze me?"

"What? I thought I said that pretty clearly. It requires a new blood sample once a year." He blinked at John. He knew he wasn't that dense—usually.

"We all thought you meant I could donate a few pints they could keep on file and feed this stupid thing when it asked for them. You never mentioned it had to be fresh. And what happens when I die? I could get hit by a bus. What then?"

"Obviously the research ends, but it would be shame if we couldn't continue. We have hundreds of years of research into your genome, John."

"Are you that desperate to have a kid with me?"

"You know me and kids," Rodney said with a roll of his eyes. "I'm just saying, from a research perspective, that it would be stupid to just throw away hundreds of years of research. I'm sure Carson would agree with me. This is the opportunity of a lifetime to really see how traits are passed on and whatnot."

"By having a child! It wouldn't just be a science experiment. We'd have a child to raise!"

"You have more money than god. We can get nannies."

John shook his head. "You've seen how well that worked with Maddie. While nannies are fantastic and make it easier, we couldn't and wouldn't just pawn a child off on someone. We'd be the ones raising it, like we are Madison."

"We don't have to decide anything now, but it's not something that should just be ignored. Hundreds of years of research, John," Rodney said. It was weird that he was suggesting it, but it was hundreds of years of data. You just didn't throw it out.

"Research isn't a good enough reason to have a child."

"Scientific advancement is important." Sometimes John was dense and stubborn.

"Sure it is. But not as a reason to have a child."

"Gentlemen," Carson said, interrupting them. "This isna a time to discuss this in any case. Let it be."

John looked sheepish. "Yeah. It's something we can talk to death later."

"I don't talk anything to death," Rodney said with a sniff and a roll of his eyes. He discussed things. Explained things.

And then John stepped forward and kissed him. On the lips. Deeply. In front of everyone in the lab. There may have been a cat-call.

Or maybe not.

Everything after that was a bit of a blur—for good reason.

****

Over the next few days, Rodney worked with Radek on various odd jobs and explored Atlantis with John when he wasn't in the middle of a project. He was still keeping an eye on the genetic power-sucking device, but everything was working well so far.

He'd downloaded all of the info to his tablet—along with several more sections of the Atlantis database—to look at once he got back home.

Huh. Home.

It was odd, he realized, as he looked up from his laptop. He was alone in the lab. He'd sent Radek on a wild goose chase to find something in one of the storage closets because the Czech needed to breathe a little softer. He should actually had Carson check him or allergies or some kind of nasal issue.

Atlantis had been the home he never thought he'd have It was weird, in a way. He'd come to Atlantis single and alone. Then John had asked him to be on a team and he'd gotten a weird kind of family.

It was still weird now that he looked back. He'd never planned to do anything like join a gate team or find a family—or fall in love.

He'd left Atlantis with only one thought—he had to be there for John. It was his turn to save him. But it seemed like that's not what happened. John had saved him—time and time again. Saved him from himself, saved him from a life of misery.

John was his hero.

Rodney snorted to himself and got back to work. But at dinner that night, Rodney found John quieter than normal—even for him. They talked quietly, kept the conversation light, but when Carson asked them to come over to watch a movie, Rodney declined.

Rodney took John back to their suite and their bed and took John apart with his fingers and his mouth, pulling groans of pleasure from his husband.

Curled up together with his head resting on John's shoulder, he broached the subject.

"You're not happy."

John didn't answer right away, licking his lips as he stalled. John would answer it, Rodney knew. It might take some time, though. "I wouldn't call it... not happy," John finally said, stumbling a little over the words. "I've been thinking about Atlantis, and what I loved about it, and why it was home for so long. I realized that... I've moved on. This isn't what I want anymore, this life. It... surprised me. That I don't need or want the danger and life-threatening excitement anymore. I still miss flying, but... I like the life we have together, at home."

John's words weren't surprising. Rodney had come to his own conclusions earlier the same day. Maybe he'd been noticing John's mood over the past few days and it had triggered something in his own brain. "If they offered you a position here, would you take it?" Rodney asked quietly, tracing a pattern on John's stomach.

There was a long pause before John answered. "Honestly, I don't know. I know I wouldn't want to be in the military again, or lead it. That's Lorne's job now. Part of what I don't have here anymore is a reason for being here, but... I don't know, honestly. You?"

Rodney shrugged, pressing his hand against John's stomach, loving the warmth of his lover's skin. "There's always something I could do here. We haven't even begun to scratch the surface of the knowledge that's in the mainframe here. But…I also like not running for my life or dealing with life and death situations anymore. Maybe I've just gotten…old."

John shifted, turning them so he was cradled in Rodney's arms. "Maybe we both are. I think, if I could have everything, I'd want to be based at home, at the estate. Maybe come out here a few times a year for a few weeks to do some consulting or something, if anything. But…I don't think I want to live here full time anymore. Not to mention... I love Maddie. We're probably not the best parents in the world, but... she needs us."

Rodney rolled his eyes. Madison was still a sore spot. "Of course she loves you. You bribe her and dote on her."

"She loves you too, you know. It's different, and she's got some issues we still need to work through, including anger, but... she loves you. She'd be devastated if she lost you."

Rodney decided that changing the subject was probably a better option—before he got angry. He didn't want to waste this post-coital feeling with tension. "We can leave tomorrow if you want. I've just been helping out where Radek needs me. It's nothing pressing."

"No, it's okay. I'm not saying we need to rush away. It was just me realizing there really isn't anything here for me anymore. Not really."

"Well, I'm here right now. That has to count for something."

John smiled. "Well, yes. Wherever you are, ultimately, is home."

Something blossomed in Rodney's chest. He shifted, turning toward John so he could kiss him. "The same's true for me, you know. If you want to leave, we'll leave. We'll talk to O'Neill and Elizabeth and see if they want us on board as consultants. A trip every three months for a week. You can bond with Ronon and I can berate the scientists. And Carson can steal a little of your blood."

"That would actually be kind of nice. The best of both worlds, so to speak. Except for the blood-letting part." John even sounded sincere.

"You should be used to it by now, though," he said. He paused momentarily before tossing out the words, trying them on for size before he changed his mind. "And maybe one day we can bring Madison. Introduce her to Torren."

"I think she'd like that. And, honestly, she's got the McKay genes. I've already seen signs that she's going to be a genius. I don't know if she'll apply that to science, but, when she's a little older and can understand better, it might not be a bad thing to expose her to some possibilities."

"And seriously. If you want to leave, we can. I don't have anything pressing to do and Radek just keeps giving me flash drives with stuff to work on at home. I have enough work from him for the next few months already."

"All right, then. Let's go talk to Elizabeth first thing in the morning. Right now, however, I vote we go make use of that ginormous tub and clean off the sex stink before we pass out."

"Oh, why?" Rodney laughed, pressing another kiss to John's lips. "You don't appreciate the new waxing technique we used on your chest last week?"

Shivering a little, John sat up and pulled Rodney with him. "Yeah, no. My chest hair is perfectly fine where it is."

Rodney laughed. "Okay, fine. Let's soak for a bit and then we can make plans to go home. Deal?"

"Deal." The water in the shower was hot and soothing, leaving them both relaxed when they finally made it back to the bedroom.

"You know, this wasn't like how I remembered it," Rodney said, his eyes heavy with sleep. He had to say it though, he had to tell John.

"I know. But I think it's us that changed, not Atlantis."

"I don't know. I think it might be a little of both. Maybe she fell out of love with us, too."

"I don't know. She feels... timeless. And everyone here is older, but... they really haven't changed much."

Rodney sighed quietly, shifting to a more comfortable position in front of John as they spooned together. "I think I'm relieved."

"Yeah." John kissed the back of his neck.

"I thought this was going to be harder to let go of again, but it's actually easier this time. Let's get Elizabeth to move up our departure. I think I want to go home tomorrow."

"We'll become part-time consultants, if they want us. But yeah.... this isn't home, not anymore."

"Home is…home. The house, the stables, the horses. You. It's our life now."

"And I wouldn't trade it for anything."

"Well, maybe for some good coffee and chocolate," Rodney said with a smile.

John laughed and it just made Rodney's smile broaden. John was home for him now. He never thought he'd find love and family and happiness, but John was always full of surprises. And even though this one had snuck up on him, he would never turn it down.

Never.

He pulled John closer and let his eyes fall closed, content and happy with his life and his love and his home.

 

****

End

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Art: Companion art for 'The Journey Home: Rodney's Story' by Puddleofgoo](https://archiveofourown.org/works/119104) by [Bluespirit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bluespirit/pseuds/Bluespirit)




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